


All my casualties of love

by acciowriting



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, drinking too much coffee, like call me kacey musgraves cause this is a slow fucking burn for me, not an uplifting story idk, theres quite a lot of drinking if you dont read a/ns, unlearning things from your childhood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 20:27:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18948235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciowriting/pseuds/acciowriting
Summary: Niall felt like he couldn't breathe back home in Ireland, so he impulsively moves to start a new life away from everything he knows. It's a process.





	All my casualties of love

**Author's Note:**

> Permission for a rather long A/N?
> 
> I had a real rough 2018 in terms of mental health, which in combination to starting graduate school, left me with no time or energy to write. But therapy and placing boundaries with uni helped so, so much, and I feel ready to write again, even if it's just fics for fun. I started writing this fic around early 2018 and stopped in the summer, so this whole portion was very cathartic at the moment, but was very hard for me to re-read right now. Niall's story is my story in so many ways, although obviously with many fictional touches. I don't know how to feel about it, content- and writing-wise, but I feel this publication is more for personal reasons than to actually sharing this story. (But still, please be gentle with this story.)
> 
> One Direction was one of the few things in my life that made me feel safe and happy when I was neck-deep in the fear and loneliness that was learning that I wasn’t exactly heterosexual, so it feels fitting that I wrote all this portion when I felt like I was drowning in the life I had a year ago. Fitting that I decided to reread and edit this when I returned home for the moment and everything reminds me of this drowning feeling I had last year. I'm not sure when this will be finished, but I hope to finish it this summer without much worries on whether it comes out well or not.
> 
> Two important notes to make. 
> 
> First, alcohol plays an important role in this story. It’s often present and not always drunk in a responsible manner. So if this is something that might affect or disturb you, I thought you should know beforehand in case this makes you change your mind about reading this fic. That, along with internalized homophobia are the only tws I can think of right now. I'll add a tag for other tws I can think of later.
> 
> Religion also plays a role in this story, specifically the Catholic church. Its role is based on particular experiences specific to me from within the Church (and, later, from outside), and not exactly anyone else's. The problem for me has always been with certain aspects of the communities, rather than the religion itself. And even so, it’s not absolute -- for example, I’m very grateful for the excellent education I received in Catholic schools, but there’s definitely several problems there that make my overall feelings complicated. But I feel like that’s an important distinction to make, as well to clarify that nothing here is not an attack to any religion or religious institution. 
> 
> Anyway. 
> 
> This is set at an unspecified year and time. But if you want to do the math, I might have or might have not taken some liberties on the timing of the factual Irish marriage referendum. (I didn’t do the math.)
> 
> As always, remember all the characters here are only my interpretation of their public personas which are then further fictionalized. Hence, the story is fictional: people, places, things, etc. Don’t share this in any way with anyone that’s mentioned here. 
> 
> Many thanks to Aly and AJ for releasing Church and making me think of this fic two weeks ago.

Niall put his two suitcases by the wall on the floor, taking his phone at out of his jean pocket.

Niall sighed, promptly plopped over the bed, taking another deep sigh because his mam had been insistent on leaving Mullingar six hours before his flight and, although he’d managed to take it down to five hours instead, he was just so exhausted.

“Hey! You’re Niall!”

He looked to his side, tilting his eyes better to see through his glasses at the brunette beside this Louis lad, his newly-introduced flatmate, at the door.

“That is my name, yes. I take it you’re Eleanor?” he asked.

“That is in fact my name, but I prefer El.”

Niall nodded. “I’d get up to greet you but I’m absolutely tired.”

“Not too tired to join us for a beer, right?”

He made a little face, tapping his fingers over where they lay in over his stomach.

“Um, I actually don’t really drink?”

“An Irish lad who doesn’t drink?” asked Louis, making a face from over the door as Eleanor nudged him.

“Well, we are going to grab some grub before the beers, so you could join us for that without any sort of pressure?” asked Eleanor, leaning against Louis with a hand on the doorframe.

He sighed. He was hungry and he guessed he should at least be on civil terms with his new flatmates.

“Sure, give me a minute to get my stuff and go to the loo?”

It took a bit over a minute, but they were soon on their way.

They went over the basics, which they kind of already knew, such as how Louis was finishing his nursing specialization, El her sociology master’s, they were both from smaller cities he didn’t recognize but seemed close enough from what they said.

In his part, that he was Irish, transferring to Manchester even if it meant basically retaking his previous year in his anthropology program and he just, was a bit overwhelmed about that fact, but things would be alright.

Things would be alright.

“There’s just so much paperwork to be done yet,” he said, widening his eyes and tapping the ceramic plate with his fork.

“Why make the switch though, if we can ask?” said Louis, over on the other side of the table covering his mouth full of curry.

“Yeah, I just feel Dublin is higher up than Manchester, you know,” El said.

“No, c’mon, no, it’s not,” countered Louis.

“It’s what I feel!”

Niall sighed, tapping the plate again with his fork. He shrugged, moving a piece of potato around.

“Just wasn’t happy,” he said, effectively ending the stare-off between the couple in front of him. “It was an impulsive decision, honestly. I don’t know how to describe it. But I wasn’t happy there, so.”

He added a shrug at the end for finality.

Louis and El nodded at him, humming in agreement.

Their interactions for the rest of the night and weeks to go went on like that. Louis and El spoke to him, a few words would come out of him, and that was it. Maybe he asked them where stuff were around campus and the city, but apart from that and daily living-together things, that was it.

Niall managed to fill all his paperwork with only minimal headaches. He went to his classes. He did his assignments and studied with time in advance. He called his girlfriend every Friday and replied to her texts throughout the week. He went to a stuffy church before finding one he liked, so he went to the uni group on Thursday nights as well. He cleaned up after himself in the flat and smiled and said his ‘have fun’s when El and Louis tentatively said they were going out for a beer.

It was all alright.

It wasn’t great, but it was better than the never-ending anxiety he’d been having last term, so it was all alright.

He could manage it.

He could.

It wouldn’t take much thought to realize that it had changed one Saturday evening when he was just laying on the sofa watching Netflix after a good meal, looking up and raising a peace sign as Louis entered the flat.

He sighed, serving himself a glass of water and sitting down on the chair beside Niall. The scrubs brought out the color of his eyes, he noticed silently.

He continued watching his episode of 30 Rock, somewhat ignoring the rest of the situation around him.

“I’ve had a rough day at the hospital and want to blow off some steam. Do you want to go for some kareoke?”

Niall paused the episode, raising his eyebrows and removing his earphones. “What?”

“Kareoke? Tonight. Would that be something you’d be into?”

Niall considered it for a second or two. “Sure.”

Louis slapped the arm rest beside him and stood up.

“It’s a plan, then, I’ll call up the masses. We leave at ten.”

Ten was, like, so late though, Niall thought.

He only sighed, thinking there were still a few more hours to go, so he could maybe rethink everything and cancel, but at the same time some flat bonding wouldn’t be the end of the world and would probably be more helpful than not in the long run.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, honestly. He was a little bit of an idiot, yeah, but he just hadn’t expected it to be at a pub with loads of people drinking around him with only a projector and a small stage on a corner as a second thought.

Which was alright, he was Irish. He wasn’t repulsed to people drinking or anything, he just hadn’t been expecting it.

“You’re sure it doesn’t bother you that we drink in front of you?” asked Louis.

They’d already done that, unintentionally, when Niall left his room ready to go and he saw them taking three shots each which… He didn’t know much about drinking anymore, but it did seem excessive.

“No, it’s okay if you drink. I just don’t drink,” he said, placing his hands over his chest for emphasis. He tilted his head for a second as the couple nodded. “Well, I mean, I’m Irish. I’ll maybe have a beer sometimes, but that’s it.”

Louis laughed, El smiling beside him.

“Well, that’s good to know. Like, I definitely don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” she said, eyes getting all wide. “But I’m definitely not getting up there on the mic unless I’m drunk, so.” She raised her hands.

“Kareoke! Let’s choose the songs!”

There were a few tables still free, so they all went to the little booth on the corner, seeing the selection of songs they had. And it was nice and Louis and El were having fun and they did a few rounds the three of them. It was fun. He was having fun singing Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere because it was his absolute favorite kareoke song when, okay, there was more people around their table when he got off the stage which, okay, maybe that’s what Louis meant by calling the masses.

There’s barely a second right after Louis started introducing him to the gang before someone hugged him rather fiercely, swaying from side to side and laughing a little.

“Love that song, love that performance, love your voice, oh, I think I love you!”

Niall manages to turn his head enough to send an alarmed look towards Louis, who is merely rolling his eyes with apparent frustration. He manages to place a hand on this stranger’s chest, pushing him away softly, just in time for Louis to help him out.

“Niall, this is Harry,” sighed out Louis, sending out a disappointed look to him before raising his eyebrows pointedly at Niall.

Harry raised both his arms, laughing along as he went “Ey! That’s me!”

“He’s real drunk and it ain’t pretty,” said Louis.

“I’m not drunk! I’m fine,” said Harry, even if he was drew out his words way to much to be sober. “And I’m pretty, shut up. So fine! Beautiful even!”

“Just ‘cause your mum told you that, it don’t make true!” laughed a darker haired friend, from where he sat between another lad and El.

Louis laughed along, pointing at him. “He’s Zayn, he’s cool and I think he might be joining you on the sober train tonight? In case Harry keeps pestering you, you can talk to him.”

Niall smiled, rolling his eyes as Harry wrapped his arms around him again.

“I’m not a pest!”

“I’m not sure how he got so drunk, I’m sorry,” said Zayn, reaching out the arm he had wrapped around the other lad and pulling Harry with him. He accidentally took Niall a little with him, but it wasn’t too hard to set himself free from Harry’s grip again. “And this one’s Liam.”

“Liam used to live in your room,” added Louis, even if Liam was too involved with his conversation with El.

He took out his phone and opened up his twitter because, wow, he really would have not come out here if he’d known it was going to be this sort of mess.

Harry’s turn started on the little stage and he’d heard that song before, didn’t know where or by who it was, but he knew he’d heard it before and that he liked it. He could’ve told anyone that Harry did in fact look and sound drunk, but he actually didn’t sound bad? He looked like a proper singer, actually, with those too-tight jeans and unbuttoned shirt. Maybe one of them should do something about that shirt, Niall didn’t want him to get a cold or something because he was barely wearing a shirt. And he seemed a bit sweaty from jumping around, and the poor lad was definitely going to catch a cold like that. But he actually didn’t sound bad.

A hand was on his shoulder all of the sudden, so he looked to the right to find Liam placing an empty cup on the table and frowning on him. Zayn’s hand was still around him, he noticed, laying rather low on his back.

He didn’t think he knew any friends who were that close, he thought absentmindedly. That was nice.

“So you’re the new me,” he said, looking at him from top to bottom before smiling. “If you ever want to sleep in a little late, I’m pretty sure I left thick black blanket that I hung from the drape things and it was great ‘cause no sunlight, you know? Do recommend. I think it’s on the, um, clothes thing.”

Niall nodded, remembering finding something that fit the description when he moved it. “Will keep it in mind, thanks.”

Liam nodded again. “Also, they can be loud if you hadn’t noticed yet. Earplugs are the way to go.”

Niall frowned because, no, he hadn’t. “How?”

“Like, at night, you know?”

He frowned because sometimes he heard them come in home or go to the bathroom, but he hadn’t heard anything in particular that bothered him.

Liam rolled his eyes, starting to make a particularly crude gesture and- oh. He hadn’t heard anything like that, no.

Zayn turned, frowning at Liam and shaking him a little from where his hand was. “What are you doing?”

Liam laughed, turning to hide his face on Zayn’s chest.

Yeah, he was drunk too, deduced Niall, turning his attention to where Harry was tentatively stepping off the stage after his song had finished.

He placed himself on Niall’s other side, slumping himself against the wooden table.

“I say that was so good that we all deserve celebratory drink,” he said, looking around the table at their skeptical expressions. “Well, at least that’s what I think, no need to be rude.”

El reached to place her hand over his. “Maybe once we’ve all done another round.”

Harry sighed, pushing himself rather clumsily from the table. He leaned to his side, examining Niall a little more carefully. He glanced at him, letting him know that he was aware of him, before returning to his twitter scroll.

“Why aren’t you drinking?”

Niall looked up, shrugged. “I don’t drink.”

Harry nodded. “Okay, I’ll keep in mind so I don’t force you to do shots with me later.”

He hesitated, trying to will away his glare.

“Do you normally do that?”

Harry shrugged.

“Depends on the friend and how they’re feeling. Like, you look like you could use a drink so you’ll loosen up, no offense, but my friend Sara is recovering from an alcohol problem of sorts, so if she goes out to parties, I absolutely forbid her to drink anything unless I taste it first to certify that it’s not alcoholic because I’m a good friend, you see. I wouldn’t make her do something that’s harmful for- to- yeah, for her, specially not when I can help her, though I think she doesn’t appreciate that I’m always behind her, watching her. Do you think she could file for a…”

Niall raised his eyebrows. “File a…”

He groaned, leaning against the table dramatically. He covered his face with a hand.

“Those documents that keep you away from people.”

“A restraining order?”

He pushed himself from the table and towards Niall, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He laughed, placing his head on his shoulder.

Niall’s hand went to his waist, keeping him from getting even closer to him.

“So smart,” he mumbled.

“Thanks?”

Harry pushed himself away from him, keeping his hands on his shoulders and frowning at him.

“Say that again,” said Harry.

“Thanks.”

Harry’s frown deepened. “D’you by any chance happen to be Irish?”

Niall laughed, pushing himself forward with the force of his laughter because how the fuck? And Harry tittered to one side so he tightened his hold on his waist, which of all things only made Harry smile, and he really was drunk.

“I’m not.”

“You sound Irish,” he said, pointing at him.

“I do?”

“Yes!” he said, reaching out to pat Liam on the shoulder. “Lads, does Niall sound Irish?”

Liam raised his eyebrows, examining Harry quickly before turning to Zayn once again.

“Yeah.”

Before Niall could say anything in regards on how, he didn’t know much about drunk people, but maybe he should’ve recognized his accent sooner, when Harry reached over and took his phone from over the table.

“No-”

“Relax, I just want to give you my number,” smiled Harry, pressing the home button again and again as it didn’t recognize his fingerprint. He switched to the passcode, and Niall really wished to wait until it was over, but- “I don’t know the passcode.”

He sighed, figuring to just go along with it and placing the four numbers in it.

Harry looked at his phone, swiping and tapping random boxes because he obviously didn’t know Niall’s organization system, but he wouldn’t let Niall take his phone back and just-

Niall took the phone away from him, instantly blocking the phone and placing it on his back pocket.

Harry pouted, pretty much throwing himself on top of him to retrieve the phone. He groaned as Niall pushed him away and desperately looked over to Zayn nearby, silently asking him for help.

“Why would I even want your number anyway?”

“So you can text me and you can show me around Ireland,” he smiled, leaning over and placing his hands over both his legs. He was unfazed as Niall pushed him gently away. “Let’s go this Christmas.”

“Maybe we can plan all that another time,” he said, nodding a little.

He heard a loud sigh beside him, so he looked over to see Zayn pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath.

“Harry, did you eat before coming here?”

“Yeah, had supper with Nick. A nice place, tapas. And quite a few sangrias,” he added with a giggle. A real legitimate giggle.

Zayn rolled his eyes, pulling him by the hand and slowly buttoning up most of his shirt.

“It’s just best if we end the night here, with this one like this and those two like that,” he said, tilting his head to his other side and Niall looking to that direction and, wow, El and Louis were really going at it against the wall. “Where do you want to eat, babe?”

Harry hummed, laughing a little. “McDonalds.”

“McDonalds it is then,” said Zayn, nodding along with him. He looked at Niall. “You want to come with us, or do you want to go home and have to listen to all that?”

Niall looked again at the couple by the wall and there was no way that arse squeeze didn’t hurt, what the fuck. He sighed.

“Honestly, I just want to go home right now,” he said tentatively. “I think I’ll follow Liam’s advice and put some earplugs or music or something.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

It was kind of impressive how he handled the whole situation, even stopping El and Lou with a simple “oi!”, but honestly, Niall was too tired and irritated to care much. He stayed silent on the walk home, not much to say when he was third-wheeling big time, but he put his earbuds and a Spotify playlist to sleep and questioned himself on why he’d thought that this was all good idea.

He questioned himself that even more when his alarm awoke him several hours later, a reminder for him to go to church if he’d not waken up by that point. He was still tired after his morning tea and walk, and it was the soft-spoken priest giving the homily today and he really shouldn’t have gone out.

The week went on normally, though, with his classes and texting home and all.

He was at a coffeeshop studying that Friday night because, while he hated himself for studying on a Friday night, he did not hate himself enough to be studying in the library. He was just reading up on his cognition textbook and marking up notes, when a body decided to inhabit the space in the seat in front of him.

He looked around the shop because, yeah, there were still some tables available, but a simple look revealed that it was just Harry, examining him with a somewhat confused expression.

“Hey,” he said, returning his attention to his textbook.

“You’re that Niall fellow from last week, right?”

He tapped the highlighter on the page, leaving a blob of neon green on the border.

“I am indeed,” he nodded.

He looked up, watching as Harry groaned and covered his face with his hands. He had some sort of bandana wrapped around his hair and, damn, it really was long.

“I’m so sorry for everything that night. And I mean, the fact that I need to verify that it’s you? How embarrassing,” he said with a sigh. He lowered his hands, looking at him with a hint of hope.

“Okay,” he said, hoping to return to his studying.

Unfortunately, that did not happen.

Harry placed his hands over the book, forcing him to pay attention to the one and only.

Niall raised his eyebrows.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” said Harry, smiling and wincing a little before, “as an apology for being so annoying and pushy.”

“You already apologized. I accepted it. It’s all done,” he pointed out.

“So let me buy you coffee.”

He looked at his empty mug. “I already had coffee.”

“C’mon. Tea, then. They have some nice combinations here,” he insisted.

Niall sighed. He could finish reading this section while he went and ordered, at least.

“Fine, sure. Why not? Take your pick,” he sighed.

He managed to finish the section and the smaller one that followed it before Harry return and he sat all comfortably in front of him and, yeah, he didn’t think he was leaving any time soon.

“Passion fruit green tea,” he muttered, sliding Niall’s paper mug over to his side of the table.

“Thanks,” he muttered, writing something down in his notebook before looking up. Harry was shaking his hair around, forcing some strands to move from where they’d been stuck with sweat on his neck. And just- He genuinely hated himself for studying on a Friday night. “Isn’t it too uncomfortable to have your hair so long during the summer when you could just, you know, not have it long? ‘Cause at least this summer was super rough back at home.”

Harry considered it for a moment.

“I mean, it’s already October, so it should start cooling off any day now. But, yeah, I guess, but I like it long, so I just put it up in a bun when it’s too much,” he shrugged.

“But don’t that just make your head hurt? That’s what I’ve always heard.”

Harry shook his head, shrugged again before picking up his frozen coffee. “Not me, at least.”

Niall nodded, returning his attention to his textbook. And, yeah, he really wasn’t going to be able to pay attention to it well now, so. He sighed, placing a plastic tab where he left off and closing the book.

He moved his warm mug towards himself.

“You waiting for the open mic here?” asked Harry.

“There’s an open mic here?”

“In about an hour, yeah.”

“Oh,” said Niall, testing his tea which still needed a few minutes so it wasn’t that hot. He winced. “I… Maybe I can stick around? It’s just one of those days where I don’t want to go home, you know?”

“Same,” said Harry, sipping from it for a second. “But don’t waste your time in this shop’s open mic, honestly. Come with me to the one at La Bohemie’s.”

Niall frowned, crossing his legs and leaning back on his chair.

“If you’re going to that one, then what are you doing here?”

“I mean, that one’s at a pub and I really wanted some coffee, so I thought why not go open-mic-hopping,” he said, smiling a little at what Niall could not possibly consider a joke. “C’mon, smile at that at least.”

“I’ll do that when you do something worth smiling at,” he said, rolling his eyes and taking a sip from his tea.

“Ouch.”

“Anyway, you gonna perform there or something? You seem like the type who does like, spoken word poetry,” he said, smiling a little as Harry frowned and stabbed his frozen coffee with his straw repeatedly. “Oh, you are.”

“I don’t like the implications here,” he said, flipping his hair and turning to lean against the wall. “But not tonight, no. I’ve got a few friends who are, though.”

Niall sighed, considering it for a second.

Harry had been alright even if annoying when drunk, but that was the only experience he’d had with him, and didn’t they always say that alcohol turned you into another person? Or was it that it really revealed who you were? Something like that. He wouldn’t know. But he seemed alright now sober, even if the annoying aspect hadn’t decreased that much and he’d told himself to make friends and be social…

“I mean, sure, let’s go once we finish these,” he said, raising a hand in resignation. “It’s not like I’m gonna study anymore and if you say the other one’s better, I’ll take your word for it.”

Harry nodded at him, tilting his head as he observed him.

It wasn’t as if his shirt was stained or anything, so he wasn’t sure what was there to look at, so he tried to fight back by staring as him as well, but there was only so much he could observe of his button-up with this weird colorful pattern.

“What?”

Harry shrugged, smiled at him knowingly.

“What?” he repeated, a little more forcefully.

“Nothing, relax.”

Niall frowned, focusing instead on removing the tea strainer out the mug because he really should’ve done that a while ago. He was kind of regretting already having agreed to go with him to that open mic, but he had told himself at the beginning of term to make friends outside church youth groups, so. He would have to just get over the discomfort, honestly, if he wanted to do that.

The discomfort hadn’t really subsided as they got the pub. It was quite a walk and Harry’s questions weren’t really good conversation starters, because what did it fucking matter to him what his middle name was? So, they mostly stayed in silence because Niall really had nothing to ask him, in all honesty, so… And this pub wasn’t very well lit and they’d found a spot in a sofa in the corner and just. There was a British union flag and a gay flag behind the stage and, was this a gay pub? Harry had said nothing about it and it was fine if it was a gay place, it just took him a little by surprise, but he didn’t want to let Harry know he was surprised and just-

This was a lot.

Being social was a lot.

Harry turned from where he’d been talking to someone, his laughter dissipating as he looked at Niall and placed a hand over his thigh.

Which, okay.

“You alright here?”

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“Alright, me too. You want something to drink?” he asked, his head tilting a little along with his voice.

“Um.”

“Right! Right, you don’t drink. We talked about this last time, didn’t we?” he asked, frowning a little.

“We did, yeah,” replied Niall, looking around the pub.

Everyone was drinking and it really hadn’t gone that well last time he was in this situation and no one had ever said that Niall wasn’t susceptible to peer pressure.

“And you’re sure you don’t mind if I have a drink or two? I promise I won’t get drunk on you,” said Harry, wincing a little at his words.

He sighed, mulling it through for a second before saying fuck it.

“Yeah, I won’t mind. But, if you get a drink, can you get me a beer? Any that isn’t very strong.”

Harry pursed his lips, hesitating as he looked around the area. He slumped against the sofa.

“No, now I’m feeling like I’m peer pressuring you into drinking,” he sighed.

“You’re not,” he said, only half-lying. “I’m Irish. I know there’s people who genuinely don’t drink at all back home, but my definition of not-drinking is having one beer and calling it a night.”

Harry hesitated again. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded as Harry muttered a “be right back” and returned his hand to his knee to squeeze it right before standing up, which, alright. Someone was touchy.

He slouched against the sofa, arm against the backrest and looking around the pub because he didn’t feel like taking out his phone. It was one thing to take it out when it was in a group setting and another when it was just two people. The open mic thing seemed to be starting, though.

Harry was luckily back in almost no time, handing him a bottle with a name he didn’t recognize and sitting down with a darker glass beside him. He pouted, slowly moving the straw around the glass and sighing.

“What’s wrong?” Niall felt obliged to ask.

Harry sighed again. “The bartender gave me a straw even though I asked for no straw. I’m killing turtles, Niall.”

Niall chuckled, looking away because, of course.

“We’ll put it in the recycling bin or something later, but someone’s gonna sing right now, so. Shut up.”

Harry sighed, slumping down on the sofa beside him and drinking from his glass.

Niall wanted to say that he really was more interested in the performances than anything, but they weren’t all exactly good in his opinion. Which he thought was fair, since it was open to the public, but still.

But Harry was sat rather closely to him, and he sometimes put his hand over his knee when he laughed at something and… alright. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just… alright, he thought, taking a sip from his beer bottle. He was drinking out of it out of pure nerves, honestly, but he wasn’t even halfway, so as long as he didn’t order another one, he was fine.

Except the one time, later that night, Harry placed his hand to his knee again, and he could only roll his eyes and push it away. A beat of silence followed between them as the rest of the tiny audience clapped at some girl who’d just finished an acoustic song.

“Sorry,” muttered Harry, clearing his throat. “I-”

“S’okay,” he muttered back, emptying the remains in his bottle. “S’not personal. I just don’t like it when people touch me.”

He wasn’t really sure why he felt the need to clarify, specially when Harry turned a little to frown at him.

“That really doesn’t make it better.”

Niall shrugged, removing his arm from where it’d laid behind Harry almost all night, helping him start tearing up bits of paper from his condensed bottle.

“No need to apologize, regardless,” he said, giving him a look that he hoped would tell him that this conversation was over.

Thankfully, Harry understood, his expression stilled on a frown even later at night, when the open mic was over and a few of Harry’s friends went to greet him, when his hand reached towards Niall as if to pull him to keep him close, but stopping himself just in time to not touch him.

And Niall knew that it was what he’d said, and it wasn’t a lie, but still… It was alright.

They walked home, Harry’s hands on his pockets and Niall’s on his bag’s straps, when he heard a low beep that sounded similar to his phone’s and… ah.

He checked his phone, and yeah. There were several missed calls and questioning text messages.

He groaned, lazily calculating the distance from here to his flat and tapping a quick _want me to call in 15 mins or tmrw morn?_

He sighed, looking up to the highline in this street, because in a way he was in some trouble but in another, like, whatever.

“Everything alright?”

He sighed again.

“I forgot I had to call my girlfriend tonight,” he explained, giving another roll of the eyes in Harry’s direction.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not that big of a deal, but I still forgot,” he said, raising his hands a little.

“I’m sorry,” muttered Harry, moments later after being silent for a while.

“Why?” frowned Niall, head snapping to look at him, hands still in his pockets and looking down at the pavement. “In general? No need. For inviting me to the open mic? Still no need, I was supposed to call her ages ago.”

Harry nodded, stayed silent.

He couldn’t help but feel that everything had been displaced, even if just one small bit to the side, even if there was really nothing to be said between them. He really wasn’t sure what could’ve caused it, if it had started earlier along the night and he was only noticing it now but- Something felt off.

“My place is in this direction,” Harry said, pointing to his left. “You know where we are and how to get home? It’s really not too far off.”

He looked around, and yeah, he was alright.

After affirming this to Harry, there was just a beat of silence before they said their goodbyes and went their own ways.

There was still some movement around the area, of students and people going out to parties and clubs and pubs since it was still midnight on a Friday night, but honestly, Niall only wanted to go home.

It surprised him a little to call his room in their corner building home, with the sink that never stopped dripping but it was alright because utilities were included and the landlord had yet to do anything about it and the fact that his room door sometimes was hard to close when it was humid, but it really had become his home in the month or so that he’d been here, even if it didn’t always feel like it.

It wasn’t really home, not yet at least in the sense he could call it his own.

But it was less suffocating than Dublin, way less than Mullingar, and maybe that’s the best he could manage right now.

Time seemed to pass slowly.

He studied.

He went to Church and then studied some more in some coffee shop, sometimes accidentally meeting Harry at one and ending up talking more and studying less than normal.

He went to the youth groups and to many of their outings, went with Louis and El for a beer and some good chat, also in attempts to make Manchester feel like his new, more permanent home.

Ireland was his real home, it always would be, and it was exhausting to live somewhere else, no matter how the cultures weren’t truly that different, but-

The feeling sharpened one weekend, after calling his mam and da and just- He’d never lived anywhere where they weren’t a few hours away, and it just sucked. And then he had to call his girlfriend later tonight and it just felt like a chore at this point and it just-

Sucked.

It was just so exhausting.

He decided to take a study break by making some tea, offering some to Louis, revising some book in the dining table. He heard his phone beep from his room and he frowned, walking over to check it while the kettle heated up.

He sighed, deciding to ring her instead of texting back on an impulse.

“Hey,” his girlfriend said from the other side of the call. “What’s up?”

He shrugged for a second, forgetting that she wouldn’t see. “Just making some tea, you?”

“Gonna need to get ready for Church soon. Think I want to sleep in tomorrow morning, so I’ll just go tonight. But how are you, really?”

He sighed, a hand going to rub his eyebrow.

“Kind of wanted to talk for a bit.”

“Then talk.”

He sighed again, trying to find the gentlest words.

“I think we should end this,” he muttered, low, as if it would help soften the blow.

A moment of silence happened.

“’This’, as in, our relationship?”

He blinked. “Yeah. Or at least take a break, you know.”

Another moment of silence. Niall wanted to wonder whether the system was just lagging behind, but he wasn’t that stupid. They barely ever fought, but he knew that it was much more preferable to have her scream at him than not.

“And you really want to do this through the phone?” she asked, her voice too controlled.

He sighed, “Well, what do you want me to do? Drag it on for months until I go back home and break up on you on Christmas? I’m not happy. Are you happy with us?”

She scoffed. “Well, right now I’m definitely not.”

“I meant overall. ‘Cause, is it even worth it if it doesn’t make us happy? I’m not happy!” he repeated, his voice raising and his feet making him stand up and pace around the room.

“It’ll pass. It’s just a phase in this long distance thing,” she tried to reason.

“It’s not a phase! I told you before I left that I wasn’t happy, and it hasn’t changed-”

“But you don’t talk to me! You just say you’re not happy and that’s that. How am I gonna help you to be happy if you don’t tell me what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know what’s the problem, alright?” he said, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “But I definitely mean it this time, that we should break up, and you’re not going to reason your way out of this own.”

“Oh, don’t turn it on me.”

“I’m not-” He groaned, covering his face with his free hand and just- “I’m not turning this against you. I’m sorry. But I’ve decided just now that I’m done doing things that don’t make me happy just because other people want me to, so I’m finishing this. I’m done.”

He hung up before he could say anything more. He knew he would get a lengthy voicemail later, but fuck it.

He sighed out as he blocked the phone, carefully throwing it to his bed.

He crossed his arms, looking at his barren walls and just-

He sighed again.

Right, he was making tea.

He absolutely wanted to die when he realized he’d not closed his door, meaning it was real easy for Louis to overhear and, judging by the fact that he’d made two cups of tea, he had.

He sat down beside Louis, taking a deep breath before testing out the warmth.

“Everything alright?” asked Louis carefully.

“Everything’s perfect,” he muttered, maybe a little too sharply, taking a sip from the too-hot tea.

And it was.

Nothing really changed much, after it. Just the usual routine of studying, youth groups, Church, and coffee shop studying afterwards. Everything was absolutely perfect.

“Is everything okay?” asked Harry, one Sunday in late October when they’d found each other at Niall’s favorite coffee shop. 

“Perfect,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, because couldn’t he wait until he finished reading this chapter to speak? And why did everyone keep asking him if everything was alright?

Harry grabbed the green highlighter before Niall could reach it.

Niall breathed in, looking at him with careful eyes that he hoped gave out his message well enough.

“I don’t like pushing people, but the dark circles under your eyes say otherwise.”

“Midterms are next week and I want to do well,” he explained, shaking his head a little and trying to reach his green highlighter. “And you should be studying too.”

“I am studying, I just don’t do anything on Sundays. It’s my me time,” he explained.

Niall rolled his eyes as Harry pulled back the highlighter once again.

“Whatever it is, you could come to my Halloween party this Tuesday and forget about it for a while,” smiled Harry.

“Um, maybe another time,” he said, wincing a little to show him how sorry he was.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Richard invited you to his, didn’t he?”

He frowned.

“No, I just don’t do Halloween,” he explained.

“I don’t either, but it’s just a good excuse to put on a fancy dress and get drunk. And you don’t have to get drunk, but you’ll have fun either way, I can assure you of that,” he added quickly.

“Thanks, but still. Maybe another time,” he said, taking advantage to try to grab his highlighter from Harry’s hand, but Harry ultimately pulled it away and placed it in his shirt’s pocket. “Please? Can I have it back? Look, fine, since apparently that’s a thing I need to improve, then fine, things might not be perfect. Can I have it back now?”

Harry slowly slid the highlighter back to his side of the table, entertaining himself with dipping a stray chip into the ketchup in his plate.

“Family okay? Girlfriend doing fine? A rough lecture at Church today?”

Niall sighed again, stopping the urge to close his book to glare at Harry. Instead, he highlighted the last sentence in the paragraph.

“What’s it to you?”

Harry hummed questioningly.

He raised his eyebrow. “What’s it to you that I tell you what’s up? Why you wanna know so much?”

Harry frowned. “Because, I hope you do as well, but I consider you my friend? So I obviously don’t want you to feel like you can’t share something with me. But if you simply don’t want to talk about it, then fine, sorry for pushing but I’m just worried,” he added quickly.

Niall tapped the book with his highlighter.

“Fine, then midterm stress isn’t mixing well with the fact that I broke up with my girlfriend last week,” he muttered, slumping down on his chair and bringing his coffee mug towards him.

“Oh.” A beat. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head.

“Don’t be,” he said, shrugging a little. He frowned. “I’m actually quite relieved that I did it because I’ve been kind of wanting to do it for a while now, honestly. Does that sound insensitive? Well, it’s the truth. But it was time, and just- It’s more the fact that she said some bullshit to me in a voicemail and it’s been bothering me a little, but I don’t want to talk about that. Not because of you or anything, but because it gives it power, you know?”

Harry nodded, frowning a little at his word. He swirled

“But doesn’t it give it even more power to let it bother you?”

Niall considered it for a second, and “Yeah, it does, now that you mention it.”

Harry raised his eyebrows in a “Well, I told you so” sort of way and-

Yeah, that actually made lots of sense.

Still, even if he didn’t let it bother him anymore from that moment, he still walked himself to Church on Wednesday evening after his ethnocentrism seminar.

It genuinely was long overdue.

He sat at the back, his phone on airplane mode as he revised the notes he’d written late last night and, wow, it wasn’t a lot but it sure was vulnerable. He laughed to himself, taking a little breather before everything, because vulnerability was kind of one of the key points of confession, wasn’t it?

Oh, God, he disliked this so, so much.

To make things worse, it is Father Brian on the other side of the confessional - soft-spoken and careful with his words, with eyes that make Niall seem like he sees everything inside him even if he really couldn’t see Niall well from the other side of the screen and just. Niall genuinely wanted to scream. Instead, he took a deep breath as Father Brian went through his lines, reminding himself that vulnerability wasn’t something to be afraid of inside these small wooden walls.

“I- I wanted to ask something, actually,” he added, when they were close to finishing. “Something I might need some guidance on.”

A beat of silence.

“I’m just-” He sighed, resting his head on the wooden panel beside him. “I’ve been struggling with, how do I say this… I’ve been struggling with reconciling the fact that I might hurt people in the process of trying to find my own path, of trying to be happy. I’m trying to not let it bother me, but it still does, you know?”

Another beat of silence. Niall tried to stop his nervous laughter from coming through.

“Have you? Hurt people in the process, I mean.”

“Not intentionally,” before briefly explaining everything. He sighed again as he settled down on his seat again. 

Niall always felt a little lost after confession, half unsure on what to do afterward he’s prayed his prayers, half unsure on why he didn’t get sent to pray five whole rosaries and go up a mountain on his knees in penitence.

He knows he should follow Father Brian’s advice to get more involved with the community here, which he was trying already but maybe it just isn’t enough yet, and on getting more in touch with his people back home then…

His feet took him to the nearest supermarket, and he just…

“Hey, da,” he mutters into his phone, looking at the amount of options here in the meat aisle and it’s not the same, but it’ll be good enough for now. “You busy?”

He picks up a packet, twisting it in his hand as his father assures him he’s not busy and it’s just. A lot right now.

“I’m at the shop right now and what type of sausages is it that you actually use for your bangers and mash? D’you have time to walk me through everything?”

They stay on the phone as Niall continues shopping for ingredients and heads back home, following his instructions as he cooked and caught up with him and it’s just. Everything’s a lot right now and he just wants to be back at his da’s sitting room with some rugby or golf on the telly and eating his bangers and mash, but he’ll just have to settle for the best next thing right now.

A lot in his life feels like he’s just settling for what he has.

He’s said his thank you’s and goodbye’s to his father after he was done, telling him to have a good time at the pub, because, of course. It was Wednesday evening, which always meant a visit to the pub with his friends and the fact that he hadn’t wavered when he said he wasn’t busy just… 

He sighed, leaning back against his chair as he stabbed another piece of sausage.

The front door slammed shut, Louis immediately arriving at the kitchen with its small dining table.

“Hey,” he muttered, watching as she rolled her eyes and started shoving bottles of beer into the freezer.

“Hey,” grumbled Louis, shutting the freezer with a little more force than needed. He turned, looking at Niall. “Sorry.”

Louis was still vibrating with whatever anger he had after his shower, having replaced his nursing scrubs with some joggers and an old Doncaster tshirt. He pulled a beer from the freezer, looking at Niall considerably.

“You ever want to absolutely murder people?”

“No.” He waited for a second, unsure on what to say to that. “Want bangers and mash?”

Louis considered it for a second.

“Sure. You want one of these beers I brought?”

He considered it for a second or two.

“Sure.”

He was halfway through eating his plate when he figured that, yeah, if he wanted to improve, maybe connecting with people wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Want to talk about it?” he muttered to Louis.

He sighed. “Some doctor was ignoring my notes on a patient, dunno if intentionally or not, and apparently it’s my fault even if I did my side of the job perfectly.”

Niall rolled his eyes, making a crude gesture as he took a sip out of his beer.

“And then I had to deal with the parents and just- Lots of juggling around today.”

Louis sighed again, leaning back on his chair and taking a swig of his beer.

“What about you? Is this a sharing moment we’re having? What’s up with you?” asked Louis, raising an eyebrow at him. “And don’t come at me telling me you’re fine. C’mon.”

Niall sighed, moving the two pieces of sausage he had left around the plate.

“Apparently I never share my thoughts and feelings,” Niall said, raising his eyebrows and then rolling his eyes. “I just don’t like talking about things.”

“Well why not?” he asked, focusing on his food, as if that would make things better and it’s just-

He sighed, choosing to finish his sausages and swirl the leftover potatoes around the sauce.

“There’s so many reasons why, Louis,” he finally said, his nervous laughter escaping his lips. “I think you’re gonna need more than one of these beers if you want me to, like, have a heart-to-heart.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Well, there’s some cooling down there as you know, if that’s what you want,” he said, smiling a little. He sighed. “But listen, it doesn’t have to be with me or anything, but you have to find someone or something you can express your feelings with. It’s not healthy to keep it all inside, you know?”

Niall sighed, deciding to finish his beer once and for all for much of Louis’s enjoyment.

“Well, that’s also not a very healthy way for expressing your feelings, but I understand,” he quipped, laughing as he gathered his leftover food.

“Fine, then I guess I feel kind of lost now that I broke up with my girlfriend,” he sighed out, crossing his arms and leaning back on his chair. He held back another sigh as Louis looked confused.

“Oh! Oh,” he said, eyes widening. “So you really did break up with her that day on the phone. That’s rough, bud.”

Niall frowned.

“Didn’t take you as an eavesdropper.”

Louis laughed.

“If you haven’t figured out that I love a good gossip and eavesdropping with friends, do you even know anything about me?”

He felt his frown deepening. He forced himself to peel the tag on the bottle instead of focusing on the heavy feeling of his chest.

“Not like, in a bad way,” added Louis, a hand going up to wrap itself around Niall’s wrist. “Just like, I want to know what’s going on with my friends’ lives and I was a bit worried about you then. I still am, honestly.”

Niall nodded, clearing his throat a little before, “Well, I don’t really like people knowing what’s going on with my life, so…”

Louis raised his hands. “Then I’ll back off, that’s fine.”

Niall nodded again, slightly surprised when his nails met the glass instead of more condensed paper. He exhaled, crossing his legs and propping his arms against the table.

“You want a second one?”

Louis stood up, flicking an eyebrow at him as he retrieved another bottle from the freezer. It’d been years since Niall had drank more than one beer and it would probably wouldn’t be the end of the world, and despite the discomfort of knowing that people talked about him, he was having a rather good time so, “Sure, why not?”

Niall stood up, putting the leftover food in bowls and cleaning his plate before sitting down beside Louis again.

“I think your room might be cursed,” said Louis, sipping from his beer. He tilted his head a little at Niall’s questioning look. “When Liam moved in, he and Zayn broke up about a month or so later. I mean, they’d barely been together at time, maybe a week or two because what a small world, and they got back together afterwards, but still. Him and now you? It’s cursed.”

Niall frowned, picking a little of the bottle’s tag even if it wasn’t soft enough yet.

“Wait, Zayn and Liam are together?”

Louis sent him a curious look. Yeah, Niall didn’t have the energy to unpack that look right now.

“You didn’t know? Everyone knows,” said Louis, keeping his look frozen on his face, only now with a little smile added to it.

Niall tilted his head, thinking about the few times he’d seen them now and how close they always stood to each other and, “No? But, honestly, that makes sense.”

Louis laughed a little, rolling his eyes.

“Are you generally oblivious?”

Niall considered it for a second, drinking a little out of his bottle to gain some time.

“Maybe I have to reconsider, I think,” he said, still frowning and trying to make sense of things.

He looked up to see Louis still looking at him with a curious look and, he really felt the need to point out that he wasn’t homophobic, he just genuinely hadn’t noticed, but wasn’t that what so many people said despite the fact that they were in fact homophobic?

He drank some more of his beer, deciding to fuck everything and change the subject for a safer one for himself before finishing the conversation.

 

He got home the other Thursday, tired from of all his midterms although glad they were all over and tired from socializing at youth group this evening, to find people in his flat.

Alright, just Liam, Zayn, and Harry.

Which was more than fine. In theory.

But still.

People.

He grumbled his hello’s, heading straight to his room and throwing his bag to the other side of the room as he threw himself to his bed. He sighed, covering his face with his hands and just- He breathed in, trying to settle down and just, be alright with everything.

Someone knocked on the door, but he really had no energy to even stand up, so-

“Pretty sure it’s open,” he said out loud.

It was, as evidenced by the fact that Harry very carefully and very slowly closed his door. He sat down beside him, hand laying on his stomach and-

“Harry,” he warned, pushing his hand away.

“Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry,” he said, removing his hand with finality, raising it to prove his point. “Sorry.”

Niall grumbled his “thanks”, observing him as Harry scooted him a little towards the wall and laid down on the bed beside him, his hands still beside his head. He frowned as Harry giggled, genuinely giggled, taking one of his hands to his face.

“Are you drunk?” he asked, pushing himself to his elbows to stare at Harry.

Harry laughed harder, turning so his face was pressed against Niall’s arm.

“You’re drunk,” he said out loud, mostly to himself.

“Not drunk,” Harry said, laughing again. “But Zayn’s brownies are the best and he’s the best.”

Niall frowned, sitting up even if it meant Harry’s whine. He sighed, taking a hand to his hair instead, which seemed to appease him for the moment.

Harry hummed, tying his hands over his own chest.

“Why don’t you join us?” his voice slower and raspier than usual.

“Don’t do weed,” he muttered.

“Oh, that part’s done, we’re just talking now, celebrating that we’re all done with midterms. Well, I still have a paper to hand in, but I just, like, need to read it over and it’s done, you know? So, fuck all that.”

Niall didn’t reply, instead rearranging himself so he could place his cheek over his knee, rolling his eyes as he ran his hand through Harry’s hair to calm him down once more.

“I think I might be max’ed out, between my last midterm and Church today,” muttered Niall.

Harry frowned, putting a hand on Niall’s knee. He quickly moved it away.

“It’s not Sunday.”

“You’re right, it’s Thursday,” he said, unable to keep himself smiling. Weed really did make people weird, then. Though he guessed Harry was always like this.

“No, like. You can go to church if it’s not Sunday?”

“Yeah, youth group.”

Harry laughed, throwing his head against the bed and covering his face with his hands. “The youth.” 

Niall rolled his eyes, wondering what was the best way to get Harry out of his room without being all out rude.

Harry patted his knee.

“Have you had supper?”

“Yeah, at church.”

“They feed you at church?”

“When uni students meet up, yeah.”

“Like, actually feed you?”

“Yes. Five courses.”

“Five?”

“That was a joke.”

“I’d go to church if they’d fed me,” grumbled Harry, turning to his side and staring down at Niall from his position. “Come have Thai food with me.”

Niall smiled. “I already ate. I’m not hungry.”

“Then come with me while I go eat Thai food. I want to be with you,” he said, eyes focusing on how his fingers traced the pattern in Niall’s bedsheets.

Niall wasn’t sure what sort of superpower he had, pulling him towards things he really did not necessarily want but making him believe he did. Even if he knew too that being alone wouldn’t fully help him in this state, but he really didn’t want to deal with people either so.

Thankfully, Harry mellowed out as he sat in the dingy Thai place he’d led Niall into, still high enough that he’d forgotten all about his plastic straw ban as he played with it by trying to do something with the ice.

Niall sighed out.

They spent most of the time in silence, which really didn’t bother Niall at all, instead making him feel more relaxed as he smiled at Harry’s stupid shit in front of him.

“Hey, so like I don’t even know your middle name,” said Harry later, mouth full of noodles and vegetables and that was disgusting. Niall had so many regrets right now.

“We’ve talked about this. I’m not giving it to you,” he said, chuckling a little.

“I barely know anything about you and how many hours have we spent together?”

Niall shrugged. “There’s nothing to know, really. I have a pretty uneventful life.”

“Middle name. Now.”

“James,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “That’s all you’re getting out of me tonight.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, pulling a little surprised face.

There was absolutely no way he could’ve known, obviously, that the first thing Harry would say after verifying that the two couples were still at his flat was “We should play never have I ever!”

“That game’s never a good idea,” moaned out Liam, covering his face with his hands.

“I want to know Niall’s secrets,” moaned back Harry, loosening his hold of Niall’s hand to slump himself against Liam on the sofa.

“Niall doesn’t drink that much,” quipped Louis.

“He can play with water, duh.”

Niall considered it for a moment, looking at Harry’s downfell face.

“I mean,” he said, wrapping his arms around him. “I also haven’t done that much, so there’s not much to learn about me and not much to drink about.”

El hummed beside him. “Lou plays dirty, just as a fact.”

“I do not!”

“Oh, please.”

“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to,” said Zayn, his eyes carefully observing him in a way Niall didn’t particularly like.

He turned his attention to Harry, still looking him in that way and just-

“You know what? Why not? I’m at home, with friends, and I won’t get drunk ‘cause I haven’t done shit. Let’s play.”

Zayn squeezed his shoulder as he passed him a newly served cup. He tentatively tried it, somewhat surprised to have it taste like normal soda.

“Relax,” mouthed Zayn as their eyes met, sitting down on the floor opposite from where he stood.

He made a gesture with his hand to which Niall understood he’d only put a little alcohol in, to which he could only nod gratefully.

It didn’t take long to realize that Louis wasn’t the only one who played dirty in the makeshift circle they’d made on the floor.

“Never have I ever been in Ireland.”

“No, if we’re going to play this, Niall, you need to do more than just sip!”

“Fuck off,” rolling his eyes as he followed instructions.

“Never have I ever been to church after a night out.”

Liam raised a hand, drinking along with Niall.

“Never have I ever been in a church,” frowned Zayn, waving his hand a little.

Harry frowned back as everyone else drank from their cups, “Do weddings count?”

“If you’ve stepped into a church, drink.”

Harry grumbled something under his breath as he drank.

“Okay, are you all just, trying to get me as drunk as possible?” frowned Niall, biting down on the plastic rim of the cup.

“Getting as drunk as possible is literally the goal of this game.”

“But we can stop when you feel you’ve drank enough. Just say the word,” added Liam, raising his hand a little again, slowly taking it down to point towards Niall. “Like, I’ll give you a break. ‘Cause. Never have I been in a mosque.”

“That’s extremely targeted,” smiled Zayn, drinking as Liam laughed against his shoulder.

Liam’s hand was glued to Zayn’s thigh. Zayn kissed his forehead as he continued giggling. Niall couldn’t really believe that he hadn’t realized they were dating, now that he thought about it.

“It’s all targeted here, shut up,” said Harry, moving his hair from one side to the other as he considered his next words. He smirked at Niall briefly. “Never have I ever had a girlfriend.”

Niall rolled his eyes, drinking along with Louis beside him. Zayn drank as well, which…

He frowned, taking the opportunity to let everyone else think he was coming up with something, when really it was more like, how could Zayn be gay if he’d had a girlfriend before? Or maybe he’d just misunderstood the rules a bit?

“I’ve got to say something I haven’t done, right?” he asked, still frowning.

“Something that you never have you ever done, yes.”

Wait. So Harry had never had a girlfriend?

“Okay,” he said, trying to actually focus on the matter in hand. And, honestly, the hardest part was picking one of the many things he’d never done. He rolled his eyes again. “Never have I ever played never have I ever before.”

Well, at least he made everyone drink to that.

“Never?” asked Louis.

“Ever,” he nodded.

“Never.”

“Ever.”

Harry started humming that Taylor Swift song beside him, moving from side to side with the rhythm.

“I mean,” he continued, waiving a hand around. “I’ve always only been friends with church people before, honestly. If we did an alcohol-free version, what are we supposed to say? Never have I ever fallen asleep during prayers?”

Zayn laughed in front of him, head back against the chairs armrest.

“Is that a real one? I’m gonna drink to that,” he laughed, taking his cup to his lips.

“I mean,” Niall said, shaking his head a little. Fuck it. “I’ll drink too then, ‘cause I always fell asleep during morning prayers at school.”

Harry frowned beside him. “They made you pray at school?”

Niall blinked.

“If you went to a school ran by Catholics, then yes, every morning,” he nodded.

Harry murmured something under his breath, and honestly, he had no energy to ask for clarification even if it sounded too much like a “that’s fucked up.”

Which.

It was completely normal.

Thankfully, they moved towards targeting each other only to constantly watch how Niall pointedly didn’t drink from his cup. ‘Cause how was he supposed to relate to drunken mistakes and hookups?

He sighed, ‘cause, honestly, he didn’t care and this was way too easy for him right now.

Well, maybe he was a little drunk, he thought, denying Harry’s offer to fill him up another cup. He even let Harry lay down on his lap after the game finished, holding him down when he remembered he didn’t particularly like people touching him, but this one actually wasn’t that bad, so he had no problem with letting him lay down there as he checked his phone. It was more than enough to make him feel some sort of peaceful kind of happy that he hadn’t felt in a long time, and it… It wasn’t actually bad, really.

 “You good?” he asked Harry, hand still on his hair.

“Sleepy,” he murmured, turning away from him and taking his hand to Niall’s, urging it to continue doing its thing. “You?”

He shrugged, as if Harry could see from where he was.

“Rather nice, would drink a lot more often if it always felt like this,” he said, considering it for a moment. “But, still, clouded judgment and all that.”

Harry hummed. “I want some crisps.”

“You ate a huge pad thai bowl like an hour ago.”

“I want some crisps,” repeated Harry, rolling away from Niall and hitting himself in the shoulder in the process. “Help me up and come with me, they’ll help you sober up a bit and clear your judgment.”

Helping Harry stand up ends up being a whole endeavor, and Niall doesn’t really know whether to laugh or to just drop him, honestly. Like, he knew he was normally clumsy, he wasn’t that oblivious to everything happening around him, but he was genuinely tempted to drop him and let him on the floor for a good while.

They ended up on the corner of the kitchen, sharing a bag of crisps that Liam had brought between them in silence. There really wasn’t much to say other than Harry should really learn how to eat with his mouth closed, and that maybe he should fix his jumper. It was all smudged up against his neck in one side and hanging off his shoulder.

Harry was about to say something, leaning microscopically towards Niall, when Zayn walked into the kitchen.

Niall breathed in, pushing himself away from the countertops and slipping out of Harry’s reach before either of them could do or say anything.

This is why he didn’t fucking drink, he thought, sitting down in the space between Louis and Liam in the sofa.

Everything became a mess and just, no.

He cautiously looked towards the kitchen, seeing Harry’s attention returned to the bag of chips, while Zayn was staring at him as he drank some water.

Niall decided right there and then that Zayn’s stares were one of the worst things in this fucking planet.

He hated this so much, deciding to smile at some argument Liam and Louis were having on boybands, head leaning back against the sofa and trying not to let himself fall asleep.

He might have not done the best job at that, awakening many hours later with a blanket over him and several texts on his phone in the nature of goodbyes.

Time went by.

He went through his routine without a problem.

He never saw Harry anymore at random coffee shops or at the library. Which felt weird, but it was also so nice to have no external distractions when he wanted to study. He pushed himself to go to confession a few weeks later, thankful it was Father Joseph this time. He did his prayers, and did not do his homework on trying to figure out why he was so susceptible to peer pressure and its temptations when it came to alcohol. He categorically did not think about it, even more when he knew he wasn’t going to return to another party any time soon.

Which.

Well, soon is a relative term.

It wasn’t as if time was physically real anyway.

Harry was throwing an end of the year party a few days before Niall returned to Ireland and Louis and Eleanor convinced him that it would be more fun than watching Netflix all night and- Well, he was dubious on the fun part, but if he wanted to be more social, then he had to actually do something about that, didn’t he?

His cup of jack and coke that Louis had served him was becoming warmer in his hands, not even half empty due to the knowledge that this was heavier than a beer, even if Louis had told him he was going easy on him.

But the party was cool.

It was fine.

It was good.

There were some people he knew up and around, and he’d talked to them and other people and laughed as some people tried dancing against the wall with no success, but he couldn’t get quite comfortable after confirming to himself that Harry was indeed avoiding him.

Like, he suspected it way before when he stopped seeing him places, but he also told himself that the world didn’t revolve around him and that Harry had other friends, other things to do.

But, like.

He didn’t even know what he’d done wrong and didn’t even have his phone number to text him about it or anything.

He wished he’d fully humored Harry that first night and let him put his number on his phone.

He joined Louis on the sofa, rolling his eyes as Harry left, some dumb excuse on his lips. He gulped down as much of the drink as he could, because he wasn’t going to be so uncomfortable all night because Harry was being so childish, even if it was his own flat and everything.

Louis considered him for a second.

“What’s going up between you two anyway?” he asked.

Niall rolled his eyes again. “I genuinely have no idea.”

“Right,” muttered Louis, more towards himself. He slapped his knee, pushing himself off the sofa.

Niall followed him to the kitchen, leaning against the countertop and biting down on his plastic cup as he looked at Louis.

“So, I’ve got a question,” he said, looking around and confirming that everyone was a lot more interested in themselves than on the two of them.

Louis raised his eyebrows as he served his drink, before finally, “Yes?”

Niall winced a little internally, wanting to kick himself in the arse as he asked him, “Is it true that you get more comfortable in places if you’re drunk?”

Louis frowned. “I mean, it’s not so much that you get more comfortable, it’s more that you don’t care. But it depends. Like, El gets real anxious when she drinks tequila, so it depends.”

Niall considered it for a second. Well, we wasn’t more anxious than normal right now, but he’d only had one drink and his anxiety levels were probably real high in normal situations anyway.

“Are you uncomfortable here?”

He considered it for a moment, which absolutely did nothing to appease Louis’ worried expression.

“I mean, no. But I’m also not fully comfortable, you know? So… Could you serve me another of what you gave me earlier?” he asked, pulling a face that only made Louis’ frown deeper.

Louis considered it for a second, wrapping his hand around one of Niall’s wrists.

“You do know you don’t have to drink, right?” he muttered, low. “Like, you could only have water in that cup and no one would absolutely care?”

Niall bit his lower lip.

“Yeah, I know. But I want to,” he said, nodding quickly. “I just… Would rather not have some shit in my head right now and being a just little drunk doesn’t sound too bad.”

Louis kept his frown as he considered him for a moment.

“Can I ask you something back?”

He nodded, even if he was already regretting doing so.

“When I met you, you said you didn’t drink at all,” he said, looking up at Niall with sharp eyes. Honestly, he wished the Earth would just swallow him whole right here right now. “Then, one beer’s okay, then two, and now we’re here. What’s up? Are you alright? I just- I normally wouldn’t ask, but I want to make sure I’m not helping you self-destruct or something. ‘Cause been there, done that.”

Niall wrapped his arms around him, looking at the ceiling briefly.

He really, really wished everyone would stop trying to figure out everything about him. It wasn’t as if there was a lot to figure out. He knew that. He didn’t know how these people didn’t already.

He shrugged finally.

“I think the not-drinking thing was more of an Ireland thing. Like, I don’t know how to explain it. That was Ireland me, who couldn’t really be himself. It’s in the past now,” he said, waving a hand. “And I’m here now. I get to create this real me. And, well, everything in moderation, right?”

Louis considered him for a second, and Niall really wanted to wrap his arms around him tighter, preferably with a large quilt in a dark room and just fucking disappear. Instead, he just raised his eyebrows, a small smile on his lips as he slowly pushed his cup towards Louis.

Louis sighed, taking the cup and filling it up.

“Right, so here’s what we’re going to do. If you finish this and you want another drink, you come to me, alright? Don’t ask nobody else, don’t serve something yourself. If you don’t feel well in any way, you tell me. We’ll go easy since it’s you’re first time getting drunk,” said Louis, sharp, withholding his cup until he agreed.

“I mean, I’ve been drunk before,” he said, tasting the drink and, yeah, he’d definitely made this one stronger. “It’s just been years.”

Louis frowned. “Well, why’d you stop? Again, I don’t want to pry. I just want to understand. Make sure you don’t have some sort of drinking problem and I’m enabling you, ‘cause I’ll take that drink right now, I swear to God.”

Niall frowned as well.

“I don’t remember, actually? Probably ‘cause I switched churches for university or something. Nothing serious, I promise.”

Which, wasn’t a full lie. He remembered always being scared that he would lose control of himself if he drank more than one beer, scared of what would happen if he let go of all the constraints he needed to have on himself for people to like him, but nothing had happened that had caused that feeling from what he could remember. And then his last church, more in touch with uni-level students than the one at Mullingar, warned about the dangers of blurred and bad judgment because of alcohol, and that was it.

Louis nodded, hesitating for a second, “So you won’t mind doing a shot with me? It would be my honor to give you your first shot.”

That was probably a bad idea, but-

“Nope.”

And so.

Niall was drunk.

Not like, full out drunk or anything, but he’d definitely passed the relaxed buzz some time ago. He was oddly relaxed, but everything was a lot happier and funnier and if someone asked him if he wanted to run a half-marathon, he probably would sign up right now.

He was still careful, trying to be as self-aware as possible to avoid any clouded judgment of sorts, but this was all so nice.

He was huddled up against Liam on the sofa, seeing all his Uno cards without a problem in the world. He’d finished his hand a few moments ago, but they were waiting to see until how longer they could go before they lost track of things, which, really, could be any time soon.

“Harry, come play the next round,” said some girl Niall was supposed to have learnt her name already.

Really, he was going to suggest name tags for the next time they invited him to a party.

Harry shifted from where he stood between two arm chairs, biting his lower lip as his eyes stopped at Niall for a few seconds as he evaluated the situation.

“I’m horrible, you know that, Jes,” he said. “Think I’ll pass.”

Niall rolled his eyes as he watched him walk away.

He sighed, pushing himself off the sofa and following to another side of the room.

“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked, no roundabout to the issue.

Harry frowned. “What makes you think that?”

Niall pulled back for a second.

“I haven’t seen you in like over a month, you said hello to me and that was it when I got here, and I don’t even know what I’ve done,” he said, shrugging a little.

Harry considered him for a second.

“Wait, are you actually drunk right now?” he frowned, a hand going up to his waist. “Like, 1 to 10?”

“I’d say I’m at seven, but I think my seven’s very different than yours,” muttered Niall, feeling his head go a little to the side as he observed him and his tied up hair and stupid unbuttoned shirt. He frowned, pushing Harry’s hand away. “And this is not what I want to talk about.”

“But no one made you drink, right? ‘Cause I swear-”

“No, I wanted to, I wanted to. God. Why doesn’t no one believe that?” he said, crossing his arms and looking up to the ceiling. “Just wanted to drink enough to stop feeling like I shouldn’t be here because it’s your flat and apparently, we’re not friends anymore or something.”

Harry sighed, brushing his hair with one of his hands. It looked soft. He knew touching hair was a no-no, but it looked soft.

“I’ve been going through some things and it’s best if I take a bit of space from people. In general. Not only you. It’s not personal.”

Niall laughed.

“It’s not you, it’s me?”

Harry smiled after a moment’s hesitation, “Yeah.”

Niall nodded. “Okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“Serious?”

“Serious.”

Niall considered it, “Okay.”

Harry tried not to smile, “I really don’t want to do this ‘okay’ thing, but okay.”

He smiled, laughing a little. And it was nice. The two of them, just smiling at each other in peace when the party was still going on around them.

He wished that they could stay like that, that Harry could figure out and solve whatever it was he was going through so they could stay like that longer, but they eventually were interrupted by someone else, some drunk bloke talking to Harry.

He sighed, letting his feet lead him to where Zayn stood alone in the minuscule balcony. He placed his face against his shoulder, listening to Zayn laugh and rearrange himself so his arm was around him.

“Alright?” muttered Zayn.

Niall sighed again. “Tired. Of everyone.”

He hummed. “Me too. But it’s okay, we’ll just stay here a little bit longer then.”

He just.

He didn’t know shit about his own life.

 

 

Mullingar didn’t seem to have changed one tiniest bit, still the same houses and people and gossip. He should have felt relieved to be back home, even if he’d left feeling like it suffocated him. Instead, he felt this weird sort of disengagement, because it was home and it was familiar, but it did not feel like a part of him anymore, or at least he didn’t want it to be a part of him anymore and it just. Really did a number on him.

That’s why, late on Boxing Day when it was just him and his father for their traditional leftover dinners, he didn’t hesitate to say “sure” when his father offered him a beer, same as always even if he’d never taken up on the offer before.

“Since when you drink beer?”

Niall tapped the table with his index finger as he took his glass.

“I drank one before if I was in the mood,” he muttered, tapping again as he tried not to roll his eyes. “But it’s more of a recent thing.”

“Good then, you need these simple pleasures in life,” he said, returning to his attention to his plate before, “How recent?”

Niall made a face. “Like, moving to England recent.”

“Unacceptable. Learning to drink from the English? Absolutely not.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes and saying that, of course, of course they could go together to the pub after this.

He frowned into his pillow later at night, still absolutely buzzed from the beers he’d had even if he’d stayed in his absolute best behavior for his da, remembering a conversation he’d had one of the previous times he’d felt this way.

He reached for his phone on his bedside table beside him, grimacing at the light for a second before he lowered the brightness.

He looked up that word he’d heard at that last party, asexual, clicking open the first link without thinking much about it. He read it through quickly and-

He sighed, starting from the top once more before turning a bit frustrated and closing the tab on his phone. ‘Cause… maybe that explained things? But how was he even supposed to know what sexual attraction felt like, if he’d only been remotely been interested in one girl before and maybe it wasn’t even love what they’d really felt together? What was love either way? It was a highly individualized feeling, what would anyone else know about his feelings?

He let his cloudy mind lull him, try to convince himself that there was nothing wrong, because he was feeling this way for a reason, wasn’t he? But he just-

It didn’t feel right, that word.

It didn’t feel right for him.

Although, honestly? Nothing felt right, he thought.

He groaned out in frustration, blocking his phone. He plugged in his phone once more, scrubbing his eyes so hard until he could see colors on the ceiling above him.

He just wished this thing - whatever it was that was going on with him and making him so fucking miserable - wasn’t so hard, so exhausting.

He was back on his mam’s car and then on his plane to Manchester in a few days, falling asleep uncomfortably against his tray-table.

The sense of exhaustion carried him around during finals weeks and he just wanted to go off on an abandoned little cabin on a hill and become a hermit for the rest of his life. He didn’t need any of this.

He could, like, live an autosufficient life or something.

He knew he was being stroppy because he wanted more coffee that he also really didn’t need, but he was allowed to be stroppy in a moment like this.

He was definitely allowed to be annoyed when he looked up to see someone sitting down on his free chair without asking beforehand, even more when he realized who it was.

“What do you want?” he sighed out, vowing to refuse to look up once more from his textbook.

“Wow. No, ‘hi, Harry, long time no see. How were your holidays?’”

He rolled his eyes, looking up to glare at him.

Harry had cut his hair, maybe in some sort of new year new you sort of shit, though he didn’t know if he was actually capable of doing something as simple and common like that without making a whole show out of it. And his jumper was all sorts of fucking stupid, really. He didn’t need to even start on how he was looking at him, all biting his lip and looking conflicted for some reason.

Harry sighed, grabbing Niall’s empty mug and leaving the table without a word.

Niall tried to get through this last paragraph, he did. And it was just three sentences, not long, but he did not manage to get through it. He just.

Why was his life like this, honestly?

He took out his phone on an impulse, going into the uni’s student page and looking for the right tab. He read it, groaned, and laid down his head over his textbook.

He only looked up moments later at the sound of a setting mug and the smell of coffee, carefully staring a new coffee mug beside him and Harry retaking his seat in front of him.

“The coffee will get that stick out of your arse,” he scoffed, readjusting his legs beneath him.

Niall fully rolled his eyes as he sat up straight, taking the mug into his hands. He didn’t trust that he hadn’t spit in it or put rat poison in it or something, but it was coffee. So.

“Did you know there’s a fucking deadline to drop out from uni?” he said, between small sips. “It’s passed.”

Harry frowned. “You’re thinking of dropping out?”

He only shrugged, looking away with hopeful finality.

He didn’t want to drink half his latte in less than a minute and have him become a ball of anxiety in a bit, so he replaced the mug in his hands with his textbook and highlighter designated for main points.

He reread the first sentence like five times or more, he’d lost count after a certain point. Sure, it wasn’t really compelling material, but still. And just. He didn’t know why he was here, other than to make his life even more impossible by staring at him while he tried to study.

He took a deep breath, asking him without looking up from his book.

“I just saw you and realized I wanted to sit down here and maybe talk a bit, so I did.”

He didn’t have to look up to see his shrug.

Niall sighed, rolling his eyes.

“So, are you?”

“What?”

“Gonna talk?”

“Oh,” Harry said, standing up straighter before slumping once more. “Are you really thinking of dropping out or was that a very bad joke?”

Niall closed his book forcefully, rolling his eyes again.

“My mum always said your eyes could get stuck like that when you roll your eyes,” added Harry, leaning against the wall. “Should be careful, you.”

Niall glared instead for a second, recollecting himself.

“Honestly, Harry, thanks for the coffee,” he said, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms. “It’s a very bad fantasy I’m having lately, but it’s just that. I plan on sticking around for a bit more.”

Harry smiled at him, and so did he, and everything was alright, even if just for that hour or two they spent together.

He really didn’t know how to describe it, other than a feeling of emptiness and of him being the only one like this. He hated it, but he didn’t know how to shake it off and didn’t even know where it came from so he didn’t know how to make it stop and why couldn’t he make it stop regardless?

He found himself sighing a lot, understandably so.

He went to youth group that next Thursday. He went mostly for the food, preferring to stay in his bed watching netflix and ignoring the world and not having to socialize and yet. Warm food he didn’t have to cook himself or pay for, though.

He was only human.

He definitely did not want Father Brian to sit down beside him on his corner pew, with his eyes that made him feel like he could see every corner of his self. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad of a thing, however, as long as he told him what was inside him because he genuinely had no idea.

Maybe he wouldn’t like it, though, but maybe it was better than simply not knowing.

“Niall, we were talking about you the other day and… What are your plans for your future?”

He laughed, shoving down the dirty, disgusting feeling of knowing that people talked about him. He stabbed a small piece of carrot with his fork.

“Finals week just finished yesterday for me, so it’s not really a good time to think about the future right now,” he laughed again. “Still reeling in from all that stress, need to chill for a bit before I do so.”

Father Brian nodded.

“Well, have you ever considered joining a seminary?”

His head snapped up to stare at him and, no, he did not seem to be joking in any way.

He cleared his throat, “Um, I have actually.”

“And?”

“Well, I want to finish my degree, first of all. Second of all, I don’t know.”

Father Brian raised his eyebrows, giving him The Priest Look.

“What’s stopping you?”

Niall looked away, another chuckle on his lips.

Because. Where did he even start?

He kept his attention away from Father Brian, not wanting to see The Look still on his expression and having cause him feel all the embarrassment he generally avoided feeling about himself. fix wording lol

“Well, like, pardon my language, but I fuck up so much, Father,” he said, laughing a little yet again and shaking his head. “I- I’m not a good candidate for any worthwhile seminary. Or, any religious organization in a leadership position, not necessarily a seminary, you know.”

There was a beat of silence where Niall waited for some disappointed words, which did not come.

“I wouldn’t say that necessarily hinders. As long as you learn from your mistakes and become a better person from them,” he said, shrugging a little as Niall turned to look at him in confusion. “Some Jesuit Brothers actually have a group of younger men who are considering their community, and I think you would be a good fit for them. If you ever want more information, don’t hesitate in asking me, yeah?”

Niall nodded, only feeling like he could properly breathe after he left him alone in the pew.

He went home that night, finding everyone already in his flat huddled up and ready to go. Harry instantly went to him, all “please be my chill drinking buddy, I’m single and there’s a two-for-one special.” It really was not that hard to say “yes, let’s go,” and he wondered when this changed.

“But change, really,” said Louis, waving a hand. “We’ll wait a bit.”

He looked down at his clothes.

“What’s wrong with this?”

“You can’t really go to a pub with church clothes, can you?”

He rolled his eyes, asking for a minute to change a bit.

He turned around as he looked for some other trainers, seeing Harry sit down on the corner of his bed.

“Just add a jacket and you’re fine. Don’t listen to them,” he said, crossing his legs.

He nodded, following his instructions and grabbing a black jacket before saying his goodbyes.

He stayed back with Harry on the walk, leaving the couples in front staring at him as he wiped away his allergy—tears from the cold. Niall was still a bit warm from the tequila shot Harry didn’t have to talk him into, but maybe allergies weren’t sensitive to alcohol consumption or something like that. 

“I’m good, I’m good, I just forgot my allergy medication today, fuck,” he muttered.

“You know, for such a tall person, you walk unbelievably slow,” Niall pointed out.

Harry shrugged, “I can’t help how I am, Niall.”

He heard them shit talking something about some classmate in front, someone he didn’t know. He sighed a little, in case it helped him, even if he knew he wasn’t going to say anything about the matter.

“How did church go today? Like, what do you even do when it’s just uni people? Is it a special sort of Mass or something?” asked Harry, later, a little frown on his face as he sipped his margarita and leaned back against his chair.

Niall frowned. “We’re really going to talk about this, the two of us?”

“Well, I don’t know what else we could talk about because I don’t want to talk about uni, but I don’t think you want to hear about this Tinder bloke who sucked the soul out of me last night.”

He choked on his drink, coughing up a storm and thanking whoever it was that was slapping him on the back. He spilled some of it on his hand, making him swear internally because that would leave his hand sticky for hours, he was sure of it.

Harry stood in front of him, hands up and wide eyes and only a slight smile on his lips.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, taking his hand to Louis’ shoulders to stop him. He turned to Harry, shaking his head. “You’re the fucking worst.”

He laughed as Harry raised his arms up even more with a shrug.

“So let’s not talk about that then.”

“Let’s not,” agreed Niall. He took a sip from his drink, still unsure on what to think on the saltiness, and took a deep breath. “But at least you had fun.”

Harry laughed, nodding. “You could say that, yes.”

He cleared his throat. “But to answer your question, we read some Bible passages or some other lecture, talk about it, pray a bit, and eat, basically.”

Harry nodded, sticking his tongue out to the rim of the glass and laughing when he realized Niall was staring at him.

He considered it for a second, partly because it turned out he did not want to talk about church and stuff while he was drinking a margarita on a pub, partly because he didn’t think he’d met someone who unashamedly admitted to using it and he was curious.

“So, how does Tinder even work, anyway?” he asked, shrugging a little as he took a drink.

Nope, not a fan of the salt, though it was fading away the more he drank, so.

Harry frowned, clearly confused.

“You don’t-” The questioning tone and expression turned into an understanding one. “You’ve never used Tinder.”

“Nah,” he said, shrugging again. “I was in a relationship when it got big and I’m certain I’m not a hookup person anyway.”

“Yeah, but it’s more of a meeting-people app,” said Harry, crossing his legs beneath him. “Whether you’re looking to hook up or date, you’ll meet someone there. And it doesn’t give out your exact location like Grindr does, which I like. Like, look.”

He took out his phone, from his back pocket, showing him his profile with his pictures in different states of undressing - which, okay - and reading his ridiculous profile description.

“Absolutely ridiculous, in my opinion,” he said, passing the phone back to Harry, who shrugged.

“Well, it’s not your opinion that matters,” he scoffed. “I still get matches and messages, so. It works.”

“I mean, like attracts like,” said Niall, laughing as Harry flipped him off.

“Oh, let’s make you a profile.”

Niall made a little face between a wince and a smile, finally laughing a little and shaking his head at Harry’s expression.

“C’mon,” Harry said, giving him a another wide smile and leaning towards him. “You don’t even have to even message anyone. Just for fun, you can delete it tonight.”

Niall rolled his eyes, his attention resting on Harry’s smile until he couldn’t help but smile as well.

“Fine, but don’t embarrass me.”

And embarrass him he did, making him laugh into his as he went towards his older pictures, because “Please, no, that’s such a bad photo of me.”

Harry groaned. “It’s more than fine, Niall. We have to choose one and this is Tinder material here.”

“But you don’t even know what Tinder material is for girls,” pointed out Niall, making Harry frown and consider it for a moment. “And how about you stop festering me and get yourself a boyfriend to bother instead?”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t feel like I’m a relationship bloke, dunno. But regardless. El, come here.”

Niall covered his face with his hands, letting out a little scream as Harry laughed at him.

But El helped, bless her, rolled her eyes at Harry’s bad jokes and made a better profile for him than he could have ever done himself. She turned to him, his phone in his hands, raising her eyebrows a bit rhythmically.

“Alright, Harold, drum roll, please.”

“Oh my God, I regret everything,” Niall said.

“How’s this one?”

“Eh,” he said, shrugging a little. El and Harry looked at him. “What? It’s not like I can judge her from one photo only!”

El smiled, slapping Harry on the knee for rolling his eyes. She handed him his phone.

“Read her profile then.”

He did and, eh. Well, it wasn’t a no, but still.

“Is there an option here for maybe? Like! Why’s it got to be yes or no? And what if I change my mind?”

“Oh my God,” Harry groaned out.

“Well, would you rather give them a chance or would you rather go all ‘if in doubt, throw out?’”

He considered it for a moment, ultimately sighing and swiping right. And, yeah, he guessed the second girl also deserved a chance to prove herself.

“Wait, why you swipe left on that one?”

He shrugged, “She had three cats.”

El and Harry looked at him.

“I love cats, but three cats as a uni student seems excessive,” he explained, frowning when their expressions remained immutable. “I think that’s a perfectly reasonable, um, reason to swipe left.”

They shrugged. 

He swiped right with the rest of them, because, honestly, these were probably great girls whose pictures didn’t do them enough justice no matter how good they were. Who was he to say?

“Listen, if you’re going to do it like this, it’s boring to watch,” muttered El.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ll delete this app tonight,” he shrugged. “Dunno what’s so great about it.”

“Are you really on Tinder right now?” asked Liam, seeming to have bored himself with Zayn’s and Louis’s conversation and turning towards him. “And I’m not invited?”

Niall shrugged, raising his hand as he sighed.

“And none of you are choosing for him? You’re too kind,” he muttered, scooting over to see his phone for a second before taking it out of his hands.

Really, maybe he should invest on some gloves or glue or something to stop people taking his phone away.

“What about this one, for example?”

Niall considered her main picture for a second.

“It’s just… She seems to be a musician? Which, I love music, but do I want to date a musician? What if she goes on tour or something? I could go along with her, that’d be great, be a trophy husband or something, but if I can’t go with her then I think it would get lonely at times.”

“Oh my God,” groaned out Harry.

“Niall, you don’t have to propose to her any time soon, just tell me whether you think she’s pretty or not,” Liam said, giving him an expectant look.

“Fine, like, I guess, yeah.”

It went on like that Liam showing him pics at first before just going plain out choosing for him and it wasn’t as if he knew him that well to choose a future girlfriend or something. God, he didn’t even know what he could describe his type like.

Nice smile? Laughed at his stupid jokes and made a few of her own? Patient enough to deal with his shit?

He told Liam this.

“I’m not choosing future wives for you, Niall,” Liam explained again. “Just people that would seem to fit well with you judging by their pics and profile. You don’t even have to message them if you don’t want to.”

“But you never even met my ex, you don’t know what I like.”

“I mean, but you couldn’t have liked her that much if you broke up with her on the phone.”

El slapped Louis’ shoulder, frowning as he laughed beside Zayn, hand clasped over his mouth and eyes wide.

“What?” exclaimed Louis.

“You know what. Go back to talking about Power Rangers,” snapped El.

Harry sighed, “I’m getting another drink. Niall?”

“Right, sure,” he said, nodding. He shrugged off the heavy feeling on his chest. “After all this humiliation, sure.”

“Ignore him, he’s a twat,” Liam said, gentle, once things have calmed down a little.

“It’s okay,” he shrugged, sighing out a bit. “He’s not completely wrong.”

Liam considered him for a second before, “Still, it’s not okay. But let’s move on.”

And it’s just.

He knew this is something that people did. Talk about people they like and all that shit. Or at least they pretended they did, pretended they liked doing this, but he couldn’t pretend like he was fine, really fine being here and being interrogated about all this shit without wanting to choke on one of a giant ice cube to break up the conversation. Alas, that was probably too extreme for a thing like this.

He looked towards the bar - still pretending to listen to Liam even if how the fuck was he supposed to know if he liked runners? He didn’t give a shit as long as they didn’t try to take him and his bum knee along for a run at four in the morning - only to see that Harry’s attention seemed to have been displaced by some other bloke, probably some friend, and to realize that he was probably not coming back any time soon.

“Just swipe left,” said Niall, shaking his head a little.

“Got it.”

Niall looked back towards the bar and… Was that how he and Harry looked when they were talking? ‘Cause they were friends and the bloke seemed to be his friend, although Harry seemed to respect his personal space more than he did with this other guy, or were they just flat out flirting with each other?

“What about this one?”

Niall sighed.

“Liam, I thought the whole point of this was that you would choose girls and I wouldn’t have to work at this at all.”

“Ideally, yeah, but I’ve seemed to have lost my female-beauty-appreciating eyeglasses tonight,” he argued, pouting a little at him. “I just want to help you find someone.”

Niall sighed again, shrugging a bit.

“I don’t even know if I want that, Li. Kinda like being by myself right now,” he added, shrugging at his look.

“That’s okay,” said Liam, nodding a little too. “You could always say that you’re just looking to make friends, meet people.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, whatever, you can swipe right, honestly.”

He looked back at the bar, thinking that maybe he should get his eyes checked when he got back home for Christmas, because he couldn’t quite make out Harry’s face while he was laughing, but that definitely had to be flirting right?

He thought they were having just a night out between the six of them, just friends, but maybe he kept misunderstanding things.

“Since it’s not running, how do you feel about footie fans?”

“Jesus Christ, you want my grocery list too? Why’d you even care?” snapped Niall, turning to look at Liam. Just that one look made him feel horrible, shame gluing him to his spot on the chair, closing his eyes a little before muttering out a “Sorry.”

Liam frowned.

“I care ‘cause you’re my friend. I care about you and I want to see you happy, okay? Simple as that,” he added, tightening his hold on his shoulder before letting go.

Niall nodded, taking someone’s glass of water and drinking from it.

He glanced at the bar, just for one second before he realized that Liam’s gaze was following his. He didn’t know it was possible to hate such a small smile, the way he raised his eyebrows at him.

“Harry can do better than him, don’t you think?”

Niall cleared his throat, failing at stopping himself from glaring at him because he was not an idiot enough to not recognize an undercurrent of something in his voice, but an idiot enough to not know what it was and just. The bloke evidently did rugby or something.

But still.

He carefully placed the glass of water over the coaster, finally shrugging.

“Yeah, I guess if you say so.”

Liam looked at him for a second too long before, “Right, let’s get back at this Tinder thing then.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes but waving his hand to let Liam continue swiping whatever side they decided to swipe.

 

The rest of semester passed in a bit of a haze, studying and finally progressing in his course from Mondays to Thursdays and going to church Thursdays and Sundays with the Jesuit meetings in between on Saturdays and going out for drinks on Fridays and the occasional random days because why not and too much coffee and maybe not enough sleep but it’s enough, it’s enough, it’s enough. It felt like too much too often, like he was trying to achieve too much and was doing poorly at everything, but everyone disagreed in one way or another, so he guessed maybe it was all in his head.

If he needed to slow down, he guessed he just needed to focus on the moment, on surviving each day and each week because he didn’t know what else to do except exactly that.

He guessed it said something about him in that state, how out of it he felt with everything, that he found out about it one night by entering his facebook and seeing posts about the marriage referendum and he just. He read the news site he knew was more neutral than any-side-leaning and he just.

Maybe he needed to do a facebook cleaning spree.

It was long overdue.

He barely posted, but if he didn’t want them to know about his life and he didn’t want to know about theirs, he could start like that.

He hated it, wondering if he should buy a plane ticket, if it would even make a difference if he did, and he knew he should and that he would but, still. He mulled it over. With patience, not procrastination, of course. Slowly tracking the prices and watching them increase with the passing of time because airlines had no soul or morality, who would’ve thought?

Until one night. Some fancy, uppity art school event of sorts with alright wine but good tapas and Harry’s hand always on his back or on his waist, almost an affirmation of being present, being enough to belong in a place and city like this: Some conversation later with some of his friends he’d met before at some party and of course, “you’re Irish, how do you think about the same-sex marriage referendum? what will happen?”, as if Niall was a fucking sociopolitical analyst, call the BBC to interview him, and “oi, we should throw a party if the Irish gays win, shouldn’t we?” and a “yeah, Niall can organize it, he’s Irish” and an uncomfortable smile and an even more uncomfortable “Yeah, I’m not gay though, so don’t think it’s my place to plan it. But maybe we can collab or something.”

He figured all those flat earthers centuries ago were onto something by trying to fall off the edge of the world, with all this tightness inside him that he felt in that moment. And could they even be considered flat earthers, versus the current flat earthers? The previous ones were very smart, at least. Just misguided.

Anyway.

He sipped his wine and the rest of them shrugged it off, like nothing happened, and kept on talking about parties and some other shit.

But something definitely happened, definitely, if it made Harry take his hand off his back, and not return it seconds after.

Niall waited for one, two, three pathetic seconds only to see one of Harry’s hand on his own glass of wine, the other on his pocket and just.

Pathetic, he was.

He was most probably overthinking everything.

He finished his glass, trying not to wince at the taste it left on his mouth.

Not really a fan, of the wine, and how the conversation deviated to another topic he had no idea about.

Maybe it wasn’t enough, then, his hand on his back.

Was he ever enough?

He shook the thought away. He wasn’t going to mull over that thought when he’d had a glass too many.

He’d never been wine drunk before, even if he wasn’t really drunk; instead he remained in a perpetual state of barely-drunk. Maybe wine drunk Niall was a bitter and self-deprecating drunk.

It wasn’t as if he knew who sober Niall was, anyway.

He groaned a bit, getting close enough to rest his head against Harry’s shoulder. He hadn’t meant to sigh out as Harry’s hand return to his lower back, and yet.

“Alright?”

Niall nodded, pressing his forehead a bit into the softer bit below his actual shoulder bone as Harry’s hold on him tightened.

“Want me to take you home, bud?” he asked, low. “I’m honestly done if you are.”

He nodded, ignoring the fact that he should feel more pleased and light and happy of this than he actually did.

The goodbyes took a little bit more than expected, they always did, but Harry kept his word and walked him home, with a small, “Thanks for coming with me. Didn’t want to go alone, honestly.”

“Of course,” muttered Niall, throwing any sort of caution into the wind and hugging him, placing his forehead on that cranny between his chest and his neck and just.

Breathed.

Harry’s hand ran up and down his back.

“Alright?”

He nodded.

He could feel him hesitating for a moment before, “You’ll tell me when you’re ready to talk about it, though?”

He sighed out, forcing his eyes shut as if no bit of streetlights wanted to embrace his eyes.

“I guess,” he shrugged.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Niall shrugged again, pulling himself away just enough to look at him.

“I don’t like feeling this way, that’s all,” he shrugged, sighed out. The only two things he could do without any sort of problem at all.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Alright. That’s okay. But you’ll get through it, I know you will.”

Niall shrugged, repressed the urge to sigh out once again.

“I’ll buy my ticket once I’m in my room with my laptop.”

Harry blinked. “Are we still talking about the same thing?”

“Nope, we’re changing subject without any more acknowledgment of the past because the past’s the past,” he said, nodding pointedly. “But the ticket to Dublin. Plane ticket.”

“You’re…”

He smiled, pressing himself against him as he tightened his hug.

“For the referendum,” he explained.

“Oh,” Harry said, with a laugh. He closed his eyes, rested his head above his. or something. “I thought. Go back back, like transfer back or something.”

“Ew, no,” laughed Niall, scrunching up his nose. “Just for a weekend. Vote, spend time with the fam, I guess? Come back the next day. ‘Cause it’s important and I care and I should care about that, not about what people will say about it.”

Harry frowned, he could feel it without looking, running his hand on his back once more and making him close his eyes.

“Why do you care so much about what others might think of you?”

Niall chuckled. “How do you don’t?”

He felt Harry shrug.

“I’d go insane if I did.”

And, well. It made sense, even if their circumstances were different.

But still.

Maybe he should follow advice. Maybe.

Niall sighed, retrieving his hands and himself away from Harry, nodding.

“’Night, thanks.”

And, so.

He bought his ticket, studied, went to church, while focusing on surviving it all one day at a time, went home, went voting and stayed at his father’s home alone, refusing his invitation to go to the pub to watch the results, because obviously his education could not wait a second more and he needed to do these readings a week in advance.

Later, there had been a consensus back at Manchester of, well, “Irish people like to drink. Gay people like to drink. Therefore, alcohol unites us all.”

And.

Well.

He couldn’t effectively argue against that, so that was the theme of the party, he guessed.

“I think I want to drop out,” said Niall, his head over Harry’s lap.

He was drunk enough to say it out loud, but not enough to know that he was full of shit and would never, not really. 

“You…”

“Yeah. Like, what am I even doing with my life here? I think maybe the gap-year-lads who go to like, South Asia for a year have a good thing going on. How much money do you think that costs anyway? To find themselves? Do they get a volunteer thing halfway or something, or are they all just rich? Why can’t they fucking find themselves in, I don’t know, Surrey or something? That’s a place here in England, right?”

“Last time we talked about this, you said it was just the finals stress getting to you and that you didn’t really mean it.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know if I do this time.”

“Do you?”

Niall sighed out, turned his head to look at him better. Only a glance makes him decide to trace out the patterns of his shirt with his fingers instead.

“I don’t know, but I know I shouldn’t make a decision like this drunk, so I’m not going to do it.”

Harry’s hand returned to his hair, brushing his fingers through it and he has nearly closed his eyes with the movement when he asked, “Are you unhappy?”

He blinked. 

“What?”

“You once said you left Dublin… Ugh- I hate this.”

Harry made to leave, but Niall used up all the energy he had left, pulled himself up so he was properly sitting on top of his lap. He raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to worry about me, alright?”

He hooked his head on Harry’s shoulder, looking at how the party seemed to have gotten a bit smaller by now, more people he knew and less friend-of-a-friends. He hummed, not being able to help but smiling against his cheek as Harry’s hand went down to rest on his lower back.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re pretty cuddly when you’re drunk?”

He frowned, huffing out a little laugh as he pulled himself away from Harry.

“I’m not drunk,” he said, faking an annoyed expression that didn’t fool Harry at all from the looks of it.

“You just said so like a minute ago.”

“Well, that’s something I can say about myself but you can’t.”

“Oh, of course, please forgive me.”

“Of course,” he muttered, returning his attention to tracing the patterns in his shirt with his fingers. Somehow, he took a glance at him as he traced the base of his neck.

(It wasn’t that hard to figure out; by raising his hands up to his chest and tracing the patterns to the point where, being Harry, there was nothing else to trace but skin.)

He pressed on it lightly, watching as Harry’s eyes remained stable on his despite how his chest hitched up just enough. 

Instead, there was a shout somewhere, maybe from a drinking game or just general conversation, and he didn’t do anything about it.

He exhaled forcibly, patting Harry’s hand that had stayed glued to his waist.

“You should like-”

He removed his hand when he didn’t himself, standing up and almost tripping over Harry’s legs. And okay, he was drunk, but not that drunk, Harry’s legs were just long and a lot right now. “You should go celebrate. Be very, very gay.”

Harry scooted forward a bit, hooked a hand on Niall’s leg. He pulled him towards him.

“I always am. You should be very, very Irish.”

Niall shrugged, wishing he had a drink in hand to take away that unsettled feeling in his stomach. Or maybe not. Either way, he shouldn’t feel that way, he knew. But he did and it just—

He frowned, shaking those thoughts away.  

“I always am. But it’s not really just an Irish party, is it? Maybe if I was Irish and gay, but I’m not, you know? Not really my victory, innit?”

Harry blinked, loosened his hold just enough on his thigh.

“Right.”

“Right.”

“But hey,” he said, hooking him up once again on his leg and making it impossible to look away. “Don’t drop out, drop off the end of the world without saying goodbye at least? I’ve grown quite fond of you.”

Niall smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Is that something I would do? Leave without goodbyes? I wouldn’t.”

Harry hummed, “Yeah, I know you well enough to know I’d find out through insta that you’re all over there. Hugging elephants or some shit.”

Niall rolled his eyes, smiling even if he knew he wasn’t wrong. He’d only told his parents beforehand about his transfer to Manchester, everyone else when it already set in stone.

“You talk like you wouldn’t do the same,” he counters, taking a step back.

“Are you not going to say goodbye?”

He flipped him off as he walked away, “I’ll see you later, fucker.”

He had been alone in the miniature balcony for a while, unable to stop watching the street below them with nothing on his mind except how this balcony should really feel sturdier than it was and how they were in the fifth floor, when the door opened and Zayn walked in.

“Hey,” he said, thanking the heavens as the noise went out with the closing of the door.

“You okay?”

Niall nodded, biting the rim of his plastic cup. He should probably finish the bit he had left before it got too watery, he guessed.

“You mind?”

He shook his head and sighed, leaning back against the wall as Zayn lighted up beside him, leaning back against the railing.

He wished no one else would come out with them, not only for the little space left but also because he knew Zayn wouldn’t really bother him with question no one needed to hear. 

So, obviously, he was the one who needed to break the silence a few minutes later.

“What does that even do to you, anyway?” asked Niall, biting on a piece of ice. “I thought weed really made you like, all paranoid and anxious, but you’re obviously not.”

Zayn shrugged, looking at his spliff. “I mean, depends, man.”

He considered him for a moment, with those types of looks that made Niall all uncomfortable because he was sure he was learning more about him than he ever would, before stepping just enough towards him.

Niall took a deep breath, looking away and into the rest of the building nearby with their dimmed lights and closed blinds and curtains.

“Why d’you prefer this to drinking, anyway?”

He leaned against the wall beside him. “Honestly? Don’t like drinking unless it’s like, a glass or two with Liam or a small gathering with tight friends. Half of it’s remains from growing up very religious, I guess, but half of it’s also because I mostly get sad or sleepy when I drink.”

Niall hummed, taking another ice cube into his mouth as he considered his words.

“You definitely grew up religious too, then? I mean, I figured, but-” He shrugged. “You know.”

Zayn sighed, “I mean, yeah. Definitely not the most, not necessarily I think, but being Muslim was definitely one of the common grounds of the community I grew up with, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Niall, nodding.

He considered his words while Zayn looked for a makeshift ashtray. He didn’t know what he would do if Zayn was disappointed in him in any way.

“You can, like, choose to ignore this, but are you still in touch with them and all that?” he asked, biting down on his cup. “Like, with the people you grew up with.”

Zayn raised an eyebrow, “’Cause I’m gay?”

Niall shrugged, nodded.

“I’m sorry if that’s crossing the line here,” he said, shrugging a little again and looking away.

“No, it’s okay,” he said, placing his hand on his shoulder for a second. He sighed, stayed silent for a second or two. “It’s just a bit complicated, when it comes to how I feel about it. But I go home every so often, and I still have two good friends there who I trust and pretty much know everything. But there’s only so much my family knows from my life here and I’ve distanced myself from most people, either because of the passing of time or consciously because I didn’t feel comfortable around them anymore.”

Niall nodded.

“I’m sorry you have to go through that, for what it’s worth,” he said, grabbing another ice cube to crunch down on. 

“You’re going to ruin your teeth like that,” Zayn commented.

He shrugged, “Someone’s got to keep dentists at their job, don’t you think?”

He rolled his eyes, finishing off smoking beside him as they both went to lean against the railing.

“It’s not really something I like to talk about, honestly,” said Zayn, one last comment. “But that don’t make it any less important, any less worthy of sharing, you know?”

Niall hummed, smiling a bit as Zayn leaned against his shoulder for a second.

“Keep that in mind, yeah?”

Niall smiled, rolling his eyes. Unfortunately, he’d eaten his last ice cube without noticing. He sighed.

“Honestly?” he said, frowning a little at the street below them before laughing out a bit. “I’m not sure how much I’m going to remember of this tomorrow.”

Zayn chuckled. “I’ll text you the key points, don’t worry.”

“A teacher through and through.” Suddenly, he frowned. “Hey, it’s a Thursday. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

Zayn laughed again, nodding. “Another example of why I’m not drinking tonight, yeah. I was only hungover once giving class, when I was doing my practice a few years ago. I made everyone in the class read out loud, not much else, and honestly? Would not do it again.”

He frowned. “Wait, how did you and Liam meet, anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten the story.”

“At a crowded McDonalds,” smiled Zayn. “Of all places. We’d seen each other a few times at the gym, though. Then I went to Louis’ for a party and found him there, we kept missing each other. But that probably wasn’t what you meant. I was in my last year, mostly focusing on my dissertation and teaching practice, and he on his first, ‘cause he took some years before uni to work and save up money.”

“Oh, same. I worked for a year, just for living expenses and avoid getting loans, honestly. Didn’t achieve avoiding them fully, but oh well,” he said. He took a deep breath, hitting himself on the cheek with his cup repeatedly. “I don’t want to go home.”

Zayn frowned beside him, didn’t say anything.

“Like, Mullingar home, for the summer,” he added with another sigh. That was all he intended to say, he thought, so obviously he had to spill out some more words. “I can’t breathe there. I mean, sometimes it feels like that here too, honestly, so I don’t think it’s all Mullingar’s fault. It might be me, a bit. But it’s asphyxiating there, always, with everyone gossiping and telling everyone everything if you even put a toe over the line. You can’t have a life worth living there without twenty people and their nans breathing up your neck and I hate it.”

“I get it,” said Zayn, humming for a second before, “Then stay here?”

Niall rolled his eyes.

“I mean, I’m not a complete idiot. I would just need to find a job here and I obviously haven’t done anything about that,” he scoffed, laughing a little bitterly. “I can’t even do that lately.”

“I’ve got some kids who need tutoring and I’m sure one more tutor won’t hurt. It’s informal and not that hard. History’s close enough to anthro, I think.”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“Nah, mate, I can’t even explain me own shit to myself. How am I supposed explain things to other people?”

Zayn smiled, “You really think my life is in tip top shape, mate? ‘Cause I’d say I’m a pretty good teacher, at least I try to, you know.”

Niall sighed, “I mean, I guess. But still, I don’t know. Remind me about it tomorrow, but I’ve been thinking I’ll ask a prof who does work out at the museum nearby.”

“What’s stopping you from doing that? I think that fits you.”

“My own stupidity and procrastination,” he chuckled. “The two are my worst enemies lately and it’s all on me.”

Zayn hummed, “Don’t call yourself stupid.”

“I am, though.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m pleased you think I’m not, but I am.”

He exhaled sharply. “You’re not, okay?”

Niall sighed, wondering if he wanted another drink after this or if he could start making little strips out of his plastic cup.

“I miss my cat, though.”

“You have a cat?”

“Yeah, back home. I miss her,” he muttered. “I want to see what my contract says about cats. Ask Louis about it. Or no, I feel El is more likely to know. But anyway. She’ll make me feel less alone, I think. Well, I hope. Though I don’t want another cat, any cat. I want her. She’s been my one true love, really. I miss her, Zayn.”

“I didn’t know you have a cat,” muttered Zayn.

“You didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t know I had to ask, didn’t I?”

Niall waved a hand. “Details. The important thing is that now you know and that I miss her so fucking much. I wish our lifespans were the same.”

“Okay, you miss her.”

“I really, really do, Zayn.”

Whatever he was going to reply, it was drowned out by the sudden scream of the music as the door opened and Liam came out into the balcony.

“Zayn! I want to go home, babe,” he said, hugging Zayn from behind and pressing his forehead against his back. “I missed you and I’m tired and I want to go home to sleep because I missed you and I’m tired.”

“Let’s go then, love, say our goodbyes,” muttered Zayn, slowly moving Liam around so he was in his arms, kissing his cheek softly as Liam smiled and pressed himself against him some more.

Niall looked at them, biting his cup at the loss of anything else to do and watching them as they talked a bit more, low and close.

God, he wished he had someone like that.

He wished he was good enough for someone.

Zayn stepped towards him, going up to hug him with the arm that wasn’t busy with Liam.

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, yeah?” he muttered in his ear, stepping back just enough to give him an pointed, all-too-knowing look.

Niall was unsure whether to frown or look at him all opened-eye, so he guessed he did both while he leaned back from him.

“Um, sure. Yeah.”

“Oh, Ni, just remembered,” said Liam, taking the hand that was covering his face to Niall’s shoulder. “Harry was looking for you earlier.”

He frowned, for real this time. “Um, I guess I’ll go inside too.”

Harry didn’t remember why he was looking for him, but he hugged him incredibly well to make up for it and he guessed that was well enough.

He closed his eyes as he laid his head against his chest, wishing he knew what was wrong with him. Well, not wrong, but he clearly should feel better than he did today, be the ideal Irish man happy about same-sex marriage passing in his country, should feel happier than he does. And he does feel happy, but…

He felt like everything was happening around him and there was a glass wall around him, preventing him from participating no matter how much he wanted to.

“Alright?”

Harry rubbed his back a bit, muttering the words after his friends left and it was just the two of them standing there.

He didn’t know why everyone kept asking him that, but he didn’t think he wanted to know why either way.

He shook his head.

“Don’t want to go home.”

“You can spend the night here, if you want. How does that sound?”

Which, would mean sharing a bed because the sofa was definitely not in shape to be his bed no matter if they cleaned tonight, and he’d never had that before that he remembered. But, like, that was innocent, right?

He really shouldn’t be questioning it like this, he knew, and yet.

He tightened his hold on Harry’s waist, ignoring the tightness on his chest up to his throat before finally nodding.

“You want to head to my room now? Take whatever you need, no need to wait for me if you want to sleep now,” he said, pressing a kiss into his forehead. It didn’t help, somehow. “I’m just going to find Lou or El and tell them you’ll stay here.”

“Why d’you got to tell them?”

Harry only mirrored his own frown.

“Because the three of you live together and planned to go home together,” he said, shaking his head as if it were obvious.

He sighed, “Fine, whatever.”

He sighed again as he laid down over the covers on Harry’s bed, only having taking his shoes off.

Maybe he’d had a drink too much, but, honestly, he just wanted to feel alright. He didn’t know why he didn’t feel alright, if things were better here than in Dublin and much better than when he lived in Mullingar. It really wasn’t too much to ask for.

He didn’t know why it felt like asking too much.

He wanted to pull Harry to him, whisper everything on his mind and chest and heart, and have him make him feel alright, no matter how impossible and unjust it was to ask that of someone.

But summer was coming soon, signaling the end of uni. He wouldn’t have all that stress from it, which would make it easier for him, he was sure of it.

He could manage it, he told himself as he couldn’t help but fall asleep.

Later, looking back, he would know that summer definitely didn’t improve things.

He sucked it up, talked to that professor and managed to applied to the few paid positions at the museum with just a day to spare. He wasn’t sure what kind of miracle it was that he got it, though he knew he also had lots of experience working with people through church, but still. 

He survived finals, the lack of uni clearing out his schedule for two weeks and leaving him lost in the meantime.

The hours passed by quicker if he said yes to Harry’s invitations, no question asked. Well, questions were asked sometimes, but there wasn’t much to argue with when Harry asked him nicely. He would rather be a little bit bored at some end of term party with only two people he knew other than Harry, versus rewatching Parks and Rec for the millionth time in an attempt to not go insane all alone in his room.

He didn’t intend to have two, maybe even three drinks more than he should’ve when he didn’t know anyone in those things. Well, he knew a group of Harry’s friends, but he didn’t know them well. He knew them well enough to know they didn’t like him that much, though. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, because he knew it was not him being worrisome when he got side-eyes and snark remarks sometimes, and he also didn’t know why Harry kept inviting him when he should’ve realized by now and he also didn’t know why kept agreeing regardless.

But he knew that if Harry thought he’d had a bit too much, he didn’t have to do much to make him put his hand on his back, sometimes maybe even pull him apart for a good conversation where no one would bother them. And Harry’s jokes were genuinely funny when he was drunk, and the look on his face when he laughed at them was definitely worth it all.

The roles are a bit reversed when their usual, comfortable gang stayed in to celebrate Harry graduating, even if he was staying around for his Master’s. He figured he should watch himself, pay Harry back for looking after him, even if he knew Harry would be alright no matter what, and it wasn’t as if there wasn’t much danger at his flat.

He genuinely didn’t know how he did it. 

It wasn’t as if he genuinely didn’t like Harry’s hand on his shoulder, his lips near him as he told him some stupid, long story that he’d genuinely stopped listening to except when he needed to laugh along with him. But Louis had made some remark the other day on how he was spending a lot of time with Harry, sometimes getting home at four am or the next day and-

He was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid.

It wasn’t like that.

But he didn’t know how to convince Louis otherwise without shaking Harry’s hand away and making him sit on the other side of the sitting room. And he didn’t want to do that, either way.

Harry seemed to finish his story, resting his head on Niall’s shoulder.

His hand went out to brush his hair, his eyes looking around the room when Harry sighed out and sunk his face deeper towards his neck. Fortunately, everyone else was too engrossed in the Uno game he and Harry had lost some time ago, not paying attention to them.

He pushed him away just enough. “I’ve got to go to the loo.”

Harry pouted. “Can I go with you? I don’t want to leave your side.”

“Um. No. Come on, glue yourself to one of your other friends.”

He was, when he returned, which was fine, more than fine. It was what he wanted, to have him all thrown someone else that wasn’t him. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, sitting down on the empty sofa behind the four of them. 

“Niall, tell El we’re going to watch Love Actually,” he said, turning back to look at him.

“We’re not going to watch Love Actually.”

“You all said I could choose the movie!”

Niall scrunched up his nose. “We should’ve put an asterisk on that claim, love. Not Love Actually.”

“Let’s watch Notting Hill, then.”

“You’re genuinely the worst person ever,” grumbled El.

“I mean, the movie watching thing is if these two idiots ever finish the game,” muttered Liam, flipping over so he could place his feet over Niall’s just from the floor.

He pushed the feet away, smiling as the bickering switched back and forth between picking a movie and who was going to win. Which, Louis had like three cards on his hands, but that didn’t mean much.

“Hey,” said Harry, turning to look at him better while the others setted up the laptop. “Can you lend me your phone charger?”

Niall nodded, going to his room and looking as Harry tripped a bit with the corner of the bed. He rolled his eyes, going to where he sat down to get his phone.

“Ugh, I don’t want to move now,” groaned Harry, placings his hands over his face. “Let’s cancel the group netflix and chill and make our own.”

He rolled his eyes again, making sure his phone was properly connected. “Stop calling it a netflix and chill session.”

“It’s what we’re doing.”

“You know very well it’s an euphemism,” smiled Niall.

“We should throw our own sesh another day, watch some movie with a great soundtrack. Mamma Mia, maybe,” said Harry. “Do you like Mamma Mia?”

Niall laughed, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulder and letting him pull him towards him.

“I do, but you’re drunk and we both know I’m not your type,” he smiled.

“I”m not that drunk. But maybe Louis shouldn’t have forced me to do shots for the years left of uni if I get the ultimate D, the PhD,” said Harry, resting his head over Niall’s stomach.

“Babe, he was joking,” he said, laughing a little.

“Well, he convinced me, same thing.”

“And, wow, did you need convincing.”

“I can take it, though.”

He nodded a little against him.

“I know you can,” he said, humming a little and moving his hand up to his hair.

He smiled as Harry pressed himself some more against him, knowing he was smiling without looking.

He liked the others, but he felt he really hadn’t spent much time with just him lately and it was a bit better, more calm and less hassle. Maybe he should ask him for coffee or something, go to the park and get some sun while they talked some shit or another, enjoy the few days left between the semester that had gone and the summer responsibilities that would arrive.

“Oi,” said El, opening the door fully and raising an eyebrow at them.

Niall stepped back, careful not to let Harry fall forward from the suddenness of it all.

El’s eyebrows only raised even more. “So are we gonna watch that movie or what?”

Harry groaned, picking himself up and leaving his room with only a grumbled “yeah.”

Niall sighed, closing his eyes and covering his face with his hands for just one moment before following through.

Harry sat down on the sofa, which is fine, glued to Louis until he falls asleep on his shoulder not even ten minutes into the movie, which is not fine.

And it- It wasn’t as if he’d done something wrong.

He hadn’t.

He sighed, crossing his legs beneath him from where he sat alone on the little loveseat they had.

He wraps a hand/arm around his shoulders, later, the movie done and Harry glaring at them sleepily as they said their talks and goodbyes and all that.

“Alright?”

Harry nodded, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

“Just tired.”

He hummed, “Want to stay here?”

Harry considered him for a second or three, finally shaking his head.

“Shouldn’t. Should go home,” he explained, resting his head over on the sofa.

“You sure?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I’m fine, Niall. I’ll walk as much as possible with Li and Zayn.”

He sighed, finally nodding, even if it meant nothing with how Harry had already pushed himself off the sofa.

He didn’t know why things were never as easy with him as they seemed to be for other people.

He guessed, that maybe even if it didn’t particularly start before that night, it definitely started to go to shit one night where it was just him and Harry sat at some pub in his second-to-last day of summer freedom because everything felt like too much and he wanted to go drinking with him even if he knew it was a short-term solution and there were these little plaques on the wall that Niall had never noticed and-

“What are those plaques for?”

Harry turned, frowning a little.

“Oh, yeah, they have this thing where if you do ten shots in ten seconds, they put your name on the wall.”

“How do they even pay for the plaques things? How long has it been going on for?”

Harry shrugged, “No idea, all I know is that I did it on my first year and it was maybe not the best decision I’ve made? Dunno how I wrote my name afterwards, maybe I was a little drunk already, but they have it down as Henry somewhere.”

Niall smiled, taking a sip from his beer before, “Nah, I’ve seen your penmanship while sober. It’s shit.”

“Wow, excuse me, Niall,” said Harry, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I think they water down their stuff for that.”

However annoyed his voice sounded, his hand stayed resting over his knee as the two of them stayed slumped against the wall, a thumb tapping away with the rhythm of the music that surrounded them, and he wished there was a way to ask him to stop making him feel whatever it was he was feeling without asking him to remove his hand from his knee.

“I could do it,” he blurted out.

Harry considered him for a moment, his smile growing by the second before he burst out laughing and shaking his head.

“I could!” he repeated.

“You’re hilarious.”

“I could!”

“You get drunk with three beers,” countered Harry, raising his eyebrows at him and laughing once again.

Niall frowned, “That was before. My resistance has improved, and you know that.”

“But still, you couldn’t.”

Niall glared at him, only to have him roll his eyes and give him that look once more. Which, obviously, did nothing to lessen his motivation.

“I can do it. I’ll do it.”

“You won’t.”

“It’s not like I’m gonna be out drinking each week with my crazy museum schedule this summer.”

“It’s still a bad idea,” said Harry, nodding a little.

“What? It’s not like you’re not going to take care of me, worst case scenario,” said Niall, shaking his head just enough to prove his point.

Harry sighed, rolled his eyes again. “Yes, fine, of course, but I’ll let you know from now that I’m not happy about it.”

So he did his shots, not in ten seconds and realizing that yeah he was so going to regret it, so Harry took the last two, but he did it with Harry half laughing at him and half giving him that look that ‘you’re going to regret this so much tomorrow.’

Which, whatever.

He could handle this.

“You should eat something so you don’t fucking crash, idiot,” said Harry, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as he led him out the pub.

Which, sure.

“I want falafel, I think.”

It all starts to hit him, he thinks, when he sits down on the pavement while Harry’s ordering their food at some truck nearby and he swears the distance between him and the floor wasn’t that big when he decided to sit down.

“What are you doing down there?” asked Harry, frowning at him from above.

Wow, he really was tall.

“Sitting. Come down and join me,” he said, patting the space beside him.

Harry rolled his eyes, grumbling something under his breath as he sat down beside him.

“Don’t be all grumbly,” he said, laying down his head on his shoulder and smiling at him.

Harry smushed up his face. “I’m sitting on the pavement with you when there’s a perfectly good bench behind us.”

Niall frowned, turning back to see that, yes, he was right. He laughed, shaking his head against his shoulder.

“I’m regretting this so much,” grumbled Harry.

“I’m not,” he smiled, looking up at him.

“Yeah, but tomorrow you will,” he said with another roll of his eyes.

“I’ll give you some of my falafel if you stop being like this.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Fine, but only because I know you don’t like sharing food.”

“I just think it’s a personal thing, for me, you know? And it depends what you share, you know? And with who.”

“With whom.”

“Oh, fuck off. But. Like, back home, if someone comes visits unexpectedly and we’re eating, we’ve got to rearrange the food so there’s for everyone. You learn to eat your meats early when you get used to it, as selfish as that sounds,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment as Harry’s arm wrapped itself around him. “Like, listen, if you’re gonna come around for supper, at least tell us so there’s more than enough for everyone, right?”

“Right,” said Harry, a tinge of amusement on his voice that he decided to ignore.

“Like, these neighbors of my mam’s house. They used to invite themselves for lunch every Sunday after church so much that it just became an unspoken agreement and we always included them because they always came by. And, alright, the more the merrier, I guess, but at least bring a fucking salad, right? There’s a line and you crossed it, you know.”

Harry hummed, “I don’t think I’ve heard much of Ireland from you.”

“I need to avoid bringing you home next time with me, so of course I’m not gonna say shit to you,” he said, smiling a little at his expression. “First time we met, you were drunk and you wanted me to take you to Ireland.”

“Please stop embarrassing me this way,” laughed Harry, covering his face with his hands. 

He laughed, running a hand through Harry’s hair.

“That’s all you, love, embarrassing yourself.”

Harry pulled himself from him just enough despite his complaints, standing up and grabbing Niall by his hand. “Let’s go, falafel time. There’s a perfectly good bench behind us, c’mon.”

He let him pull up, walk him over to the bench even with all his arms and body around him. But Harry’s back was fucked up, so this was probably a lot better for him regardless. He sighed, offering some of his falafel to Harry when he returned, before he forgot.

“Tell me more about Ireland,” he said, raising his eyebrows at him as Niall took a bite of his food.

“Which part? It’s big.”

“Your hometown.”

“It smells like cow shit, do not recommend,” he smiled, laughing at how Harry stopped to look at him, mouth all open before taking a bite of his food. “You’ll swallow a fly if you’re not careful.”

Harry pouted at him a bit, “Say something nice.”

“I’ll say something nice when I find something nice to say,” he said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head a bit. “My family’s there, that’s about it.”

“Dublin, then. I’ve genuinely always wanted to go.”

“You can buy yourself a travel guide, much better than asking me.”

“Niall-”

He groaned. “Listen, that’s all in the past. I’m here for now and for the future too, let’s just focus on that.”

Harry sent him a considering look as he continued eating his falafel, because no one really wanted to be at the ending point* of a look like that.

“You started it, anyway, talking about sharing food at supper,” he mumbled.

Niall sighed, looking down into his food and picking out a stray piece of onion. “Right. Sorry.”

He ate his falafel in a bit of a haze, tearing his leftover pita as he looked at Harry, who maybe was just hungry. He seemed in a better mood now. He hoped he was, ‘cause he was.

“You have two options,” he said, struggling to open his water bottle. He laughed a bit as Harry opened it for him, mumbling a thanks. “You can take me dancing somewhere, wherever, as long as you’ll have fun too, or we can go nap at my place.”

He considered it for a moment, taking him in with that look he wished he would stop giving him before sighing out a bit.

“I think a nap sounds good for you.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “I’m giving you the option to go dancing for a reason. I want you to have fun too.”

“I’m having fun already,” he said, smiling a little. He sighed a little, before explaining, “You’re so ridiculous, of course I’m having fun.”

“Hey,” he said slowly, imitating his voice just enough to make him laugh.

So, they went dancing.

They might’ve found a better one had they walked more, but he wanted to dance not walk, so this grimy, shitty club had to do the job, even if the music was good enough. Something about how they didn’t have to wait all night, and yes, that was the mood he wanted tonight so the music was really more than good enough. Harry walked him straight to the dance floor, crowded enough for a Tuesday.

It’s fun and great and Harry’s laughing at him, and he really shouldn’t because it’s not as if his rhythm is a lot better than his, but he really doesn’t want him to stop so he doesn’t do or say anything about it.

He grabbed Harry’s hand, turning him around as some other song he didn’t know played out and they were laughing again. His face against Harry’s chest, feeling himself smiling widely as he hugged him before frowning, feeling Harry’s body tense beneath his touch.

He made to move his hands away, frowning a bit. He reached up to move himself closer to his ear.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah.”

Niall could feel how careful he was as he slid a hand to his back, leaving the other one over his, and they probably looked so fucking ridiculous like this when the music was blasting off about something that was supposed to have them jumping around and shaking their hips and all that, but he really didn’t care, didn’t want to, he only wanted to do something to immortalize this feeling.

He didn’t know how many more songs they were like that, dancing with Harry so close to him and it was great, but he was so aware of everything he did and he didn’t know how he could have this sort of zoomed in vision or whatever this was.

But it was great.

This was great.

Everything was so great.

He smiled as Harry pulled him in, took his hands to his shoulders and, oh, he was talking to him.

“I’m going to get you a water, alright?”

He laughed, shook his head.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

Harry frowned, “I’m going to get me a water, then.”

“That’s a much better idea, babe,” he said, patting him on a shoulder.

He went to take a piss in the meantime and the bathroom was too well lit compared to the rest of the club and there’s a bunch of mirrors and, fuck, he was really drunk. Like, really drunk.

He sighed, taking a bit of a breather before heading back, thanking the heavens that he felt better already when he returned to the darker lighting and dancing people and Harry’s found himself a small table on a corner of the place and- He hadn’t noticed before how good looking he was. Like, he knew. Objectively. But he didn’t like, know know.

“Got you a bottle,” he muttered, shoving it into Niall’s hands.

He blinked. “You didn’t have to.”

Harry rolled his eyes, smiled at him as he opened it for him after he was unable to do it himself. He kept on talking about something, a bit too low for him to hear him well enough over the music and a bit too slow for it to keep his attention when his drunken mind was trying to convince him that, yeah, kissing Harry was a good idea.

A great idea.

Which, he was drunk, he knew that, so it probably was a bad idea.

And yet.

He got him a water bottle, so it wasn’t a horrible idea.

Drunk Niall had a good argument in favor, he couldn’t really argue against it when Harry was in front of him looking at him in that intense way.

He struggled to close his water bottle, setting it over the table before turning to Harry, closing his eyes against his chest.

He laughed at him, placing a hand on his waist.

“What?” he asked, a little frown on his face as Niall looked up at him. It remained there while Niall raised himself up, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Niall.”

He rolled his eyes at his warning.

“Relax, will you?”

He pressed his lips against his for only a second. Quick, simple, to the point. He stayed close to him, failing at trying to calm down his stupid nerves and failing at stopping his stupid laughter from escaping his lips, before pushing himself to kiss him a second time, properly, a much better attempt to show him what he wanted.

He was just about to pull back, another string of laughter and an apology already forming, when Harry started kissing him back and- 

Oh.

Okay.

His hand moved up to his cheek, letting himself follow Harry and his lips for the moment. He always thought what everyone said about melting into a kiss was utter bullshit, but he understood now, definitely understood now. Because Harry’s lips were great and his tongue was even better and he wanted him to tighten his hands even more, maybe so much the difference between his body and his didn’t matter, didn’t exist.

He laughed a bit, pushing himself back even as Harry followed him.

“What are you laughing at?” Harry asked, smiling as Niall shook his head. “This isn’t a laughing matter.”

Niall laughed again, pressing a quick kiss on him before, “Shut up and let me enjoy this.”

Harry pulled him towards him, drowning out his gasp with another snog. He pulled himself up by wrapping an arm around his shoulders, kissing him back with all the feelings he wished he could describe.

He didn’t really know what he was doing wrong before, maybe he should’ve really considered kissing people while drunk before, because kissing Harry right here, right now feels good, feels great, better than anything he’d had before.

He didn’t know how long they stay like that, bodies pressed against each other and kissing like the night was never going to end. He didn’t want it to, wanted to keep on kissing him and enjoying this and start ignoring the thoughts on the back of his head asking him why he was enjoying this so much.

He didn’t know how long it’s been, the urgency gone but his want very much there, when Harry moved to kiss his jaw, his skin below his ear and asking, “Want to go home?”

Niall breathed in, ‘cause it’s not like he didn’t know what that means, it’s not purely innocent this time, but he wanted it, can’t believe he actually wanted that.

He bit his lip, “Um…”

“We don’t- We’ll only do whatever you’re comfortable with, or nothing at all. I just want to get the fuck out of here.”

His lips were going down his throat, making Niall close his eyes in pleasure and just- He was hard already, been for a while now, and that’s- Well, that’s sort of new, he guesses.

He’d never lost control like this before, but he decided as he took a deep breath that he really didn’t care right now, he could regret it all he wants tomorrow but everything was great right now and maybe he should live more in the moment, so he only pressed his hips more against Harry.

“I want you, though,” smiling at his reaction, reaching up to kiss him.

Harry’s hands tightened on his waist on the verge of too much, and, fuck, Niall really wanted him so much, in any way he could.

“My place, then? Yeah?”

He laughed, hoping it was be enough to shake out all those stray nerves on his stomach.

“Relax, again, nothing you don’t want. And, relax, I actually like it when I’m some bloke’s first. It’s a good challenge.”

He let Harry kiss him again, he tried to ignore the bundle of feelings he had all over his body and-

Well.

It really wasn’t fun anymore.

He pushed himself away from Harry, slapped his hands from his waist.

“Is that’s what this is all about, then?” He knows it comes out too sour even if he tried to soften his words. But, well- If that’s how he felt. “Some game, how many drinks for me to snog you?”

“What?”

Harry frowned, moved his hands to Niall only to have them pushed away.

“That’s what this- Don’t fucking touch me.”

Harry frowned deepened, his eyes examining him as if the problem was visible over him.

Niall hated it so, so much.

“Listen, if you don’t want to this anymore, it’s fine. But, what the fuck?” he asked.

Niall laughed. He turned around, seeing his phone over on the table and pocketing it. Like, why the fuck was Harry mad at him? It was him who’d fucked up.

“Niall-”

“Fuck off, I’m going home,” he said, wishing he could calm himself enough to be that controlled anger instead of this fucking mess, but knowing it really wasn’t an option anymore.

Harry sighed, taking his hands towards him but moving them away before Niall could do anything about them.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ll walk you home and then you can tell me to fuck off.”

He frowned, stepping back. “I already told you to fuck off. So go do that, I’ll take a fucking cab or something, just leave me the fuck alone, alright?”

“Niall-”

“No, I mean it, fuck you.”

He purposely ran through groups of people to lose Harry and ran for two or three streets once he was out of that fucking club, only stopping beside a bench because, no, he might vom if he even ran a little bit more.

He doesn’t want Harry to find him, though, so he walks some more, only vaguely aware of where he’s going. And, like, he knows this is a bad idea that he was very much over the verge of too drunk and needed to get himself back home, preferably on an uber or something, but walking will be better for him, he knows.

Because, what the fuck.

But he walked.

And walked.

Until there’s a cat on his way and, fuck, he missed his cat. He sat down, recognizing the street he was at and knowing he was only a few meters off his home. He called the cat, because hopefully even petting a strange cat will make him feel better, make him stop feeling like he’s on the verge of crying.

He failed to pet the cat, so he just sighed and found himself on his doorstep what seemed a few seconds later.

Louis was in the kitchen, sat on the countertops and pausing his cereal-eating to examine him carefully.

There’s not much to say before he walks to the toilet to vom.

“Were you out alone?”

Which, why did he need to know anyway? He should mind his own fucking business, but, “Um, Harry was with me.”

He could pretty much hear the frown with the little humming noise Louis made as he cleaned up a bit and helped him up.

He’d told himself he would never drink to this point. Like, get drunk? Fine. Get sick drunk? Not fine. It really wasn’t that hard of a set of rules to follow and he can’t even do that. He can’t even listen to himself, he’s the fucking worst person ever. He hates this, pretty sure he hated himself too.

“Hey,” Louis said, turning to look at him to where he’d laid down on the corner of his bed. He frowned. “There’s no need to talk yourself like that.”

Fuck.

He’s going to move to a hill in the middle of nowhere in Ireland, or maybe fucking Germany or something, where no one knew his name because God knows if he went back to Ireland, someone would recognize him one way or another, he was sure. But he could become a hermit. Have his own garden. But, fuck, he’d have to kill his own animals. Could he do that? Could he become a vegetarian?

Maybe being a monk was the way to go. He got to do all that but with a sense of community. Maybe he could join one of those societies that took vows of silence and have no one ever talk to him or ask him questions ever again.

Why did no one ever understood that he doesn’t hate himself, not really, even if he thinks about it sometimes when he’s having pity parties or jokes about it? I mean, he’s not his favorite person, but he also doesn’t hate himself. It really wasn’t that hard to understand.

 

“Up. I know you’re awake now.”

He wasn’t not really, but it seemed like Louis wasn’t giving him an option by uncovering his windows and letting the light into his room.

Niall groaned. He’d figured that, if he ignored his stomach, it was a wonder he wasn’t hungover, but as he sits up after some more verbal abuse from Louis, it doesn’t take much time to realize that he might still be a bit drunk.

Fuck.

Genuinely, that he was never drinking again.

“Listen, before you let yourself out of this situation, I’ll let you know. You can’t keep doing this, alright?” Louis said, sitting down on the bed beside him. Niall turned around, covering his eyes with an arm. “You said some fucked up things last night that I’m not going to repeat for your own good, so whatever it is that’s going on, it’s only going to get worse until you deal with it. And you can’t fucking deal with it by going out drinking.”

Which.

He didn’t need him to tell him most of the things he said. But he was an idiot who didn’t even know what his problem was, but not an idiot enough to know that going out drinking wasn’t going to fix things even if it made him feel better for a while.

Niall took a deep breath, glaring at him.

“I’m not going out alone, why don’t you-”

“Harry’s a different case and we know him well enough to know that’s his normal,” continued Louis.

He placed his head against the wall, hoping it would all stop.

“Listen, I’m just saying this because you were pretty firm about not drinking when we all met you, and it all seems backwards now, and we’re worried, honestly.”

He groaned. “Can you stop already? Fuck off. I can’t change my mind about things?”

He sat up, because he really didn’t need any of this except, no, maybe it was better if he was laying down, for his own sake.

Louis looked at him, ultimately sighing.

“You’re right, you should be allowed to change your mind. But rest, yeah?.”

He decides he’d rather be laying down, if he’ll stay, except he remembers and-

“Weren’t you going home this weekend?”

Zayn sent him a look from where he served themselves some tea.

“I’m heading off after I drop you at your place, yeah. Might not make it in time for lunch, though, but whatever.”

Which, doesn’t really help make him better at all.

 

But, nothing.

Life goes on and so must he.

He says he’s not going to drink again, before setting a more realistic goal of at least two weeks. He started his job at the museum. It’s good, but working with kids and families is exhausting. He figured he should do more than watch netflix all alone in his free time, but he fooled around with El or Louis when they were free, sometimes. He didn’t break his one-drink rule in the next weeks, so it was not too bad.

He didn’t hear anything back from Harry, which was for the best.

Probably.

Maybe.

He didn’t know.

All he knew was that he would rather not think about that night anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> A rather sudden break, but I think this is the best place to leave it for the moment. There's around 5k already written, hopefully I'm done with this by August. Thank you for reading to this point. xx


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